


Sins of the Father

by HardStansOnly, Raepocalypse



Category: GOT7
Genre: Abuse of Corpses, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Amputation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Chemical Weapons, Corpse Desecration, Dead kid, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forced Nudity, Forced Self Injury, Graphic Violence, Horror, Jigsaw Puzzles, Jinyoung needs a hug or 50, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mark's POV, Mercy Killing, Minor Character Death, More puzzles, Multi, Mutilation, Near Death Experiences, OCs for plot - Freeform, OT7, POV Change, Permanent Injury, Physical Torture, Psychological Torture, Puzzles, Saw Traps, Saw!AU, Self-Sacrifice, Shared Trauma, Survival, Survivor Guilt, Team Bonding, Victim Blaming, billy the puppet - Freeform, horror with happy ending, intentional injury, keep your humor in shitty situations kids, mama tuan don't give a fuck about doctors and their opinions, mild description of corpses, misplaced blame, points if you get my movie ref, shit gets real in chap 2, soft ending for soft boys, tags to update with story, the tuans don't fuck around, we stan the tuans, y'all its a Saw!Au you get what's on the label
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-05-15 12:31:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19295806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardStansOnly/pseuds/HardStansOnly, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raepocalypse/pseuds/Raepocalypse
Summary: I would like to play a game. Obey the rules and you may get out alive.





	1. Bomb Room

**Author's Note:**

> Rae is the realest bitch I’ve ever met. So this story is a fleshed out fic of what Rae and I spent like 3 days passing back and forth goofing around then then longer to refine it. Rae is the co-author and has graciously let me post it. Pls go give them all the love. - S

Mark couldn't remember exactly how he had gotten chained to a wall. The last clear thing he could recall was walking down the streets of Seoul on his way to the studio for his current modelling contract. He had flown in three days prior to avoid jet lag on set and visit the local stops. The more he tried to think the more images began to filter in. He had called a taxi since it started raining, then as he tried to climb out of his taxi a needle was stabbed into the back of his neck.

Now he sat in a tiled room, head throbbing and arm stuck in some kind of weird box that hurt if he tried to move it. Above him, the light illuminated barely half the room; the low buzzing of the cheap bulbs was feeding into his headache. Looking around, Mark saw two more people sitting unconscious across from him. Not that it made him feel better by not being alone. One boy with soft brown hair falling in tousled waves around his soft face was leaned against the wall, one of his long legs bolted to the ground in a metal contraption that looked unpleasant as hell. The metal cage sat close to the skin where the jeans had been cut off though it seemed it would pop open if they could figure out how to activate it. Squinting his eyes Mark saw wires going from the contraption to under where the second boy sat. Shifting a bit, Mark absently pulled his hand down but the feeling of sharp pain kept him from moving it down too far.

“Are you two alive?” Mark questioned first in English out of habit, then again in Korean. “Hello?”

A loud click resounded as the lights on the other room buzzed to life, showing the forms of four other people. Two men sat in what was some terrifying headgear that looked heavy and uncomfortable, both attached to the wall like he was via a thick chain wrapped around their waists. The front of the metal looked like a closed bear trap which didn’t do much to put him at ease. What caught Mark’s attention was one of them was dressed in nurse scrubs while the other was in a pair of jeans and on his bare chest the words **Sins of the Father** were carved deep into the skin. Next to them sat another man completely naked save a fireman’s badge hanging from his neck and a collar that Mark realized was wired like a bomb. Inside were little glass balls filled with bits of metal that Mark couldn’t make out from a distance. The final man was chained to the wall by his hands above his head, he had black hair and was dressed, though the material was soaked in blood. From the patches of skin Mark could see it looked as if he had been mauled by a herd of pissed off cats. 

“Are any of you alive?” Mark tried again making sure to speak in Korean. Already the panic was building and Mark handled it the way he handled everything. Sarcasm. “Please don’t tell me I’m locked in a room with a bunch of dead bodies I _just_ got out of therapy.”

“Mmmfmmmfff.” The muffled noise drew Mark’s attention back to where the two in the headgear sat. Mark did his level best to keep his eyes on the man’s instead of where the words were carved into his very toned chest. “Mmmfffffff!!!!” Mark blinked realizing there must be something keeping him from talking. The man pointed to the front of his face before making a turning motion with his wrist.

“A key?” Mark frowned but the man nodded his head yes. “I don’t have it I’m sorry.” The man pointed to his face again. “You?...wait.” Mark squinted looking at him again. “You have a key?” Another nod yes. “In your mouth?” The man nodded frantically. “Oof buddy, that’s rough. Can you open your mouth?” He shook his head no. “Well damn.”

Rolling his shoulder a bit Mark tried to ignore how his arm had gone way past numb. Around them the remaining five men were beginning to slowly wake up.

“What’s going on?” The tall man bolted down by his leg asked bearily. “I’m late for dance practice.” Mark cringed at the contraption again. If the kid was a dancer he was going to be upset about his leg being trapped from the knee down. “Jackson! Jackson wait up!” Next to him the second boy twitched at bit. “Jackson!” Already he was crying.

“Hey kid. Hi.” Mark gave his best smile, if the man started freaking out now they were in trouble. “I’m Mark, what’s your name?”

The man looked at him for a few moments trying to brush away the tears. When he finally spoke it was soft, “Yugyeom.”

“Hi Yugyeom.” Mark looked over at where the man Yugyeom had been yelling at was beginning to stir. “I take it his name is Jackson?” Yugyeom nodded. “The guy with the worst braces ever can’t talk right now.” Yugyeom tried to hide a laugh even as the other flipped him the bird.

“Gyeom?” Their attention turned back to Jackson who was finally opening his eyes. “Fuck Gye-” As Jackson scrambled up the floor where he sat clicked before Yugyeom immediately started screaming.

“SIT BACK DOWN!” Mark yelled trying to get his attention. When Jackson stood up it seemed to have activated something. “JACKSON SIT BACK DOWN!” Jackson dropped himself back down and the floor clicked again.

“What the fuck?” Jackson turned an angry gaze to him. “What the fuck is this? How do you know my name?”

“Listen to me.” Mark tried to keep his voice calm. The two were obviously close and the sounds of Yugyeom sobbing were agitating him. “My name is Mark. Yugyeom told me your name and I think you’re on a pressure plate.” Jackson’s face turned dark.

“How do you know? You in on this?” Mark couldn’t stop his face from twisting up in irritation.

“No dumbass there are wires going from that leg thing to where you’re sitting.” Mark pointed with his free hand. “Also it clicked when you got up.” Jackson turned his attention back to Yugyeom who was gripping his thigh. “Do you have a key or anything in your pockets?”

“Excuse me?” Jackson snapped and Mark gritted his teeth before pointing to where the two in headgear sat watching them. The screaming must have woken the others up. “Oh…”

“Sins over there has a key in his mouth but can’t open up which means someone has _his_ key right?” Mark suddenly found himself under six very suspicious stares. “Sweet Jesus. I’m not the one who did this.”

“You seem to know a lot.” The white haired man curled in on himself, trying to hide his nakedness. “How do we know you’re not?” Mark ran a hand down his face in irritation.

“Hi that’s Jackson and Yugyeom and my name is Mark. I’m a model from Cali-fucking-fornia, what’s your name?” Mark gritted out even as the man with the cat scratches snorted a laugh.

“Bambam.” The white haired man finally responded but said nothing else.

“Jaebum but you can just call me Jb.” The cat scratch guy rolled his shoulders looking at all of them. “Long way from California.”

“Took a modeling contract here.” Mark latched onto Jaebum’s opening. They needed to not waste time yelling at each other or treating him like he was the enemy. “People say the taxis in New York are bad but my cabbie injected me with something and here I am.” Jaebum tilted his head sizing him up. “So you get into a fight with Cheetara?” Jaebum snorted another laugh.

“Hello.” All of their heads whipped over to the TV in the corner. On the screen a ventriloquist puppet sat on a tricycle. The white clown face had red spirals on the cheeks, red bead eyes, and was dressed in a suit. “I would like to play a game.”

“You play Yahtzee?” Mark couldn’t stop himself. The others in the room gave him scathing glares. 

“Keep your humor, Mark. You will need it.” The distorted voice on the TV laughed. “Seventeen years ago six of you took something from me and that I cannot forgive.” Mark stared at the others in confusion. If Mark had to guess most of them were his age or younger meaning that they would have been kids, actual kids, during the time that the puppet was talking about. Mark nearly made another comment but something seemed to change within the six others in the room. “You may think that you do not deserve to be here. However, I assure you that your place here was made on that day.” Across from him Yugyeom was crying behind his hands again and Jackson looked steely. “Any attempt to violate the rules of my game will result in a most unpleasant death..”

“Charming.” Mark mumbled under his breath.

“Mark you have five lives in your hands.” Mark jumped when a key was dropped into the box where his hand was trapped. “To save them all you must first save one.” Mark thought of the key in the first man’s mouth. If the key dropped in the box unlocked the headgear then there was a good chance _that_ key unlocked either the other man or Yugyeom’s leg. “One by one all must be freed until the chains can be released. It is all or nothing. You have two hours.”

After the final word the TV clicked off leaving the room in silence. In his chest Mark’s heart hammered painfully as the clock on the TV began the count down.

“Alright assholes.” Mark swallowed heavily rotating his wrist causing the whatever holding him to cut into his skin and blood to slide down his arm. “What the hell was he on about?”

“Our apartment building burnt down.” Jackson gritted his teeth trying to hold back tears. “A lot of people died and apparently he thinks he’s special.” Mark arched an eyebrow. “I lost a baby brother, Gyeom lost his parents.”

“I lost my dad.” Bambam mumbled. “He was a firefighter.”

“How old are all of you?” Mark moved his hand around trying to grab the key. “Seventeen years I was barely ten and I doubt any of you are older than me.”

“We -”

“Don’t talk to him.” Bambam cut off Yugyeom as he stood up. “We have a bigger problem. That clock,” Bambam pointed to the TV, “says two hours but _this_ clock says ninety minutes.” Bambam pointed to the clock on the front of his collar.

Mark watched the six of them look at each other, as Bambam fiddled absently with the firefighter badge in his fingers, face twisted in a look of raw grief. Mark give himself just a moment to appreciate Bambam’s ass before turning his attention back to the box that held his hand. Most of it was glass except for the back where it was bolted into the wall and the bottom where the opening held his hand fast. The razors reminded him of the roll strips at car rentals where you could dive over them fine one way but would shred the tires if you tried to go out. The realization did little to sooth his racing heart.

Jaebum was the first one to speak after a few minutes passed. “Bambam. You’re not chained down right?” Bambam nodded looking at him. “Go over and see what you can do to help Yugyeom and Jackson.” Mark shot him a flat look but Jaebum shrugged.

Leaving them to their own devices Mark noticed for the first time that there was something written on the box. Mark tried to puzzle out the characters, they didn’t seem like any hangul or even the very basic Chinese he knew. 

The sudden screaming caught his attention and drew him back to where Jackson and Bambam were scrambling to trade places. While he wasn’t paying attention the two had tried to switch places with Bambam on the pressure plate. “Are you stupid?” Mark hissed over Yugyeom’s sobs. “That went off when you barely moved off what the fuck did you think was going to happen? He’s like a third of you.” The two of them looked stricken but Mark didn’t pay them much attention, was trying to catch Yugyeom’s. “Hey, Gyeom. Hey.” Yugyeom looked up with watery eyes, face contorted in pain. “Hang in there, it’s going to be okay. I’m going to find a way to get you out of that thing alright? Promise.” Mark held up his hand crooking his pinky. “I got two big sisters who will kick my ass if I break a pinky promise. Just hang tight.” Yugyeom hiccuped a sob but nodded his head. 

At Jackson’s insistence Bambam cuddled close to Yugyeom to wipe away his tears and hug him. Mark tried jerking his hand down but the more he pulled the more the blades cut into his skin. Bouncing his head lightly against the wall a few times Mark was beginning to understand that he would have to fuck up his hand. A pained grunt came from the two still unnamed men in headgear as something on their devices moved. Three separate timers. Great.

“Bam.” Mark called out taking a few deep breaths. “Do you know what language this is?” Mark jerked his chin upward. Bambam didn’t move from his spot. Mark could just barely make out the whispers between the three and it seemed the consensus was he was working with the killer. “Seriously? You know with the amount of explosives and shrapnel packed onto your chest piece there, if we don’t disarm it we’re all dead right?”

“How do you know so much?” Jackson sniffed angrily. Jackson had nearly moved off before catching himself and sitting back down. Whoever did this realized the best way to not only hurt but also control Jackson was through Yugyeom. Mark had to admit that was clever.

“Have you _ever_ seen a horror movie?” Mark scoffed back in annoyance, free hand running through his hair. “This is horror movie one-oh-one. Hostages? Check. Torture devices? Check. Time limit before shit sucks? Check.” Mark ticked them off on his free hand. “All we’re missing is a poltergeist or demon and I’m really hoping that we can avoid those.”

“Then why a two hour time limit?” Jaebum asked quietly. With a lot of difficulty Jaebum wiggled himself up causing his body to bleed more. “If we’re going to get blown up what’s the point.”

Mark looked at the timer again. Hour and a half. Which meant they had an hour before the bomb necklace went off. “Bam, come here _please_.” Mark tried again but the man scowled and remained seated. “We’re gonna die. Fantastic.”

Over the next forty-five minutes Mark tried to get Bambam to get close enough to at least look at the message written but to no avail. No amount of begging or cajoling or emotional blackmailing could get the man to budge. Secretly, Mark had hoped that the message was a way that he could save himself from the razors around his wrist. Now with the bomb counter flashing fifteen minutes Mark resigned himself to the inevitable. Thanking Mark of this morning for wearing a button up shirt over his tee-shirt, Mark knew he would be able to make a tourniquet from it once he did what had to be done. Wiggling the shirt off one arm he stuffed the material into his mouth.

“Mark?” Yugyeom’s voice sounded panicked. “What are you doing?” Taking a few deep breaths Mark gripped the key as tight as he could with numb fingers. "Wait. Mark, no." Biting down Mark jerked his hand down, screaming as the razors shredded his skin as it passed through.

“You crazy bastard,” Mark could hear Jackson breathe out disbelievingly.

“GO!” Yugyeom’s voice was watery again. Distantly Mark could hear Yugyeom slapping Bambam to get him to move. “GO HELP HIM!” Shaking from pain Mark kept his teeth buried in the material, letting the tears fall freely. His skin burned where the lacerations poured blood.

Bam finally stumbled over, still looking hesitant. “The box.” Mark bit out, finally releasing the shirt. He was reasonably sure he hadn't nicked an artery but with how his day had been going, Mark didn't hold too much hope. “The message on the box. We’re almost out of time.” 

Bambam swore a moment before kneeling in front of him. Mark nearly yelled at him but Bambam ripped at the material of his overshirt until it shredded and looped it around his wrist just above the wounds before tying it tight. Then he added a long strip to cover the cuts and tied that closed with a few strips. 

Nearly delirious, he spoke again, “ _Box_. Now.” Mark pushed him before forcing his body to army crawl as far as the chain would let him. To his surprise, it allowed him nearly halfway across the room. “Hey metal mouth.” The two with headgear were looking between him and the key held out with his non-mutilated hand. “I need you to get over here. Preferably before I pass out from shock, thanks.”

The first man to wake up shuffled forward. He couldn’t quite reach, but the man extended his leg, giving Mark the ability to tuck it into his shoe. Once passed off, Mark rolled onto his back, trying to keep his arm elevated. 

“ _Fuck_.” Mark snorted at the enraged word as the sound of heavy metal clattered to the floor. “I've been gagging in that since I woke up. It’s a miracle that I didn’t heave.” Out of the corner of his eye he watched as the man first freed himself, then with the key he had spit out worked to get the headgear off the other. “Hold still, kid I’m going get you out.” Another few moments of complicated charades between the two and the second man was free. “Thank you Mark.” Mark hummed quirking a smile. “My name is Jinyoung. What’s yours, kid?”

“I’m not a kid.” The man brushed the tears from his eyes. “Youngjae. My name is Youngjae.” Mark waved with his fingers. “You need more pressure on your wrist. Come here I’m a nurse.” Mark extended his wrist out toYoungjae who shuffled forward but was unable to reach him either. “Go back to Bambam and have him wrap another strip around your wrist. Tight, it has to be tight.”

Casting a look back at Jaebum, the three of them tried to gauge how bad his bleeding was. Unable to reach Jaebum even if he wanted, Mark dragged himself back over to where Bambam was shaking.

Wincing in pain, Mark got himself back into sitting position. It was clear the lot of them would need someone to keep their head and lucky for them Mark was good at compartmentalization. “What’s up hot stuff?”

Grief stricken, Bambam read the words. “It’s Thai. Your freedom comes at a cost but will they be willing to survive the loss? Beneath the plate is the key to your fate.” Mark’s head whipped to where Jackson was comforting Yugyeom. “I can’t. Mark, I can’t.” Bambam looked at him with wide eyes. “I can’t do that Mark. His leg.”

“It’s not going to matter in ten minutes. We don’t have time to figure out how open the leg trap.” Jaebum finally spoke again. He had been watching the room with a detached but calculating gaze. “Jackson.” The two of them looked over. “Get off the plate.”

“Fuck you.” Jackson’s jaw clenched so hard Mark could hear the teeth grind. “If I move the burner turns back on.”

“And if you don’t get up we die from the bomb explosion.” Jaebum shot back hotly in the first display of emotion. “So instead of bitching you can help Bam look for whatever key is there.” Jackson shook with rage. “If the two of you work together you can cut down on the time he has to suffer.”

“FUCK YOU.” Jackson shouted back, tears replacing the rage. 

“Eight minutes. _MOVE_.” Jaebum barked in a voice filled with authority.

Slowly Jackson raised to his knees, in between hiccuped sobs he repeated “I’m sorry. Gyeom I’m sorry.” 

Mark watched with sad eyes as Jackson moved off the plate to force it up with Bambam all the while Yugyeom screamed into his hands. Already Mark could smell Yugyeom’s skin burning mixing with hot metal as the burner within hummed to life.

“NO.” Jackson’s scream of frustration made them jump. “There’s a fucking _word lock_.”

“ _JACKSON PLEASE_.” Yugyeom’s scream bounced off the walls of the room. When Jackson tried to push the plate back down it didn’t move.

“Four letters. I need four letters.” Jackson looked up wildly.

“S O T F.” Youngjae shouted. “It’s on Jinyoung’s chest.”

Failed. 5 Minutes.

“Fire.” Jinyoung suggested. “It’s why we’re here. It has to be fire.”

Failed. 4 Minutes.

Mark racked his brain trying to figure out what the letters could be. With the two obvious answers wrong Mark mulled over the riddle.

“Love.” Mark mumbled. “JACKSON, PUT IN LOVE.” 

The snick of the lock followed Jackson launching to his feet.

3 Minutes.

Mark held Bambam’s hand as Jackson flitted around the collar trying to find where to insert the key. At least if the bomb went off Mark was reasonably sure that he would die quickly. With both of their eyes glued to the timer and Yugyeom’s screaming going abruptly silent.

2 Minutes.

“Look at me.” Mark moved his hands to cup Bambam’s face. “Keep your eyes on me.” Mark held Bambam’s gaze, body tightening as it braced for impact.

“ _Finally_.” Jackson exhaled turning the key. A small beep sounded as the timer on the collar turned off. Removing the collar, Jackson dropped it on the ground to run back to Yugyeom even as Mark pulled Bambam to his chest.

“You did great.” Mark let Bam sob into his shoulder. “You did so good.”

“So what’s on the collar?” Jaebum’s voice asked through the silence. “This has been one big domino effect, right Mr. Horror Movie? Is there a key? A riddle? That clock is still ticking.” Mark hid a smile in Bambam’s hair. At the moment he could kiss Jaebum for keeping them on track.

“Go help Jackson and Yugyeom okay?” Mark tightened his arms a moment then released Bambam to pick up the heavy metal collar. Sure enough there was a riddle on the back in smudged handwriting. Reading it out loud, Mark was grateful Yugyeom had passed out from the pain. To their horror the leg trap was still burning away at Yugyeom’s leg, filling the room with the smell of cooked meat nearly gagging all of them. “There’s always a man left behind. The furnace burns everything to ash eventually, but dig through them and find what’s precious to you.”

“There’s something in the leg trap.” Jinyoung said quietly. “I remember something.” All eyes turned to him. “He said something about six of seven traps being escapeable before he knocked me back out.”

“I’ll do it.” Gently Jackson placed Yugyeom’s head on the floor. Mark didn’t have the heart to point out that the first part said there had to be a man left behind. Whatever was in the leg trap would probably free them from the chains somehow but likely wouldn’t release Yugyeom. 

Still, Mark didn’t have any intentions of leaving Yugyeom behind without a fight. There had to be a way of getting him out. All of the traps so far seemed to be focused on maiming before murder.

With all eyes focused on Jackson, the man slid his hand under the metal, teeth grinding in pain as it seared his skin. It took a few minutes of Jackson digging around before a chink behind the walls echoed. Suddenly, the chains holding them went slack. Even as they fought to get them off, Mark noticed the low hum of the leg trap had disappeared more than likely taking the heat with it.

A tinkling tune spilled from the speakers before the voice from the TV speaks and the screen flickered from the countdown to the puppet. “Congratulations.”

“Ever have a big cup of fuck you?” Mark spat out with a smile. “It’s delightful.”

“I told you to keep your humor Mark.” The amusement in the voice raised Mark’s blood pressure. With six of seven released the little bit of patience Mark had left was waning. Already he could feel his body aching where his wrist was torn up and the effects of the adrenaline wearing off. “To release the boy’s leg Mark, and it must be you, have to reach back into the box.” Looking back up Mark saw the brick that had been removed the first time slide back long enough to drop a second key before being replaced.

“Why Mark?” Jinyoung’s voice was full of confusion. “He’s from California. He wasn’t even here when the fire happened.”

“The darkest places of hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis.” The puppet’s moveable mouth struggled to keep up with the words. “Nearly one hundred people watched as that building burned and none of them helped. What is humanity if we do not help those even at the cost to ourselves?” The hum of the burner returned and Yugyeom’s body twitched. “What will it be Mark? Will you do nothing while he burns and the six of you can walk away or will you save him and the seven of you stay to play another game? Tick tock, Mark.”

When the screen faded to the countdown Mark looked back at them. Turning his gaze to Yugyeom who even unconscious was crying out in pain, Mark did the only thing he could do, the only thing his conscious would allow. He reached in with his uninjured hand. “All of you owe me dinner and a blow job later.”

At the sound on Bambam's manic laughter Mark gripped the key tightly before pulling his hand out. He felt the key slip from his fingers as Jinyoung and Youngjae jogged across the room. The combined throb of his wrists mixed with everything else made his vision go blurry.

He clocked a few things around him as the word spun back and forth like a toy top. Youngjae wrapping his nearly shredded wrist. Jaebum gingerly walking towards him. Jaebum pulling him into his lap. Across from them the four dug around the leg trap until finally a click sounded and they cheered. A small victory. 

"Hey Bambam." Jaebum called out jostling him a bit as he yanked his long shirt off. Once Bambam got close Jaebum held out the wadded material. "It's bloody, but it should be long enough to cover you some." Mark could see tears line the dark eyes. Wordlessly, Bambam pulled it on sniffing a bit when the hem reached his mid-thigh. "How is triage over there?"

"Youngjae says he's probably gonna lose that leg." Bambam held himself tightly. "Its third degree burns and cooked all the way through."

Closing his eyes a moment Mark let himself relax against Jaebum's chest. Once Bambam returned to the others, Mark finally asked, "I did the right thing, right?" The arms around him tightened. In a small voice he added, "I couldn't leave him."

"You did good." Mark smiled at how nice Jaebum's voice was. The smooth tones were pitched low and in any other situation, Mark would have been looking to hit that. Or any of them really, save Jackson and that was exclusively for the fact the man looked about 10 seconds away from ripping his head off at any given time. Mark figured a request for a date would end with him dead. "Even if you hadn't, we wouldn't have left him. I at the very least would have tried and Jackson would have too." 

Mark hummed, relaxing again. Part of him would love to just go to sleep but he knew they were still on the clock. "It's gonna be a minute to get Yugyeom's leg stabilized. What happened?"

Behind him Jaebum sighed. "One of the worst fires in the city’s recent history." Watching Youngjae work medical magic with their limited supplies helped keep him grounded. "I lived nearby and ran in when I saw a cat." Mark made a disbelieving noise. "Fuck you I was nine and I would do it all over again too." Holding his hands up in surrender Mark let him continue. "When I got inside I saw a fireman lifting a beam off a kid and his friend trying to help. I'm going to assume from their traps and age that was Jackson and Yugyeom."

"They're being punished for surviving?" Mark couldn't keep the rage out of his voice.

"Jackson had fallen and I helped him out while still keeping the cat. My mom was pissed until she realized I had saved someone." Jaebum and Mark both eyed the clock slipping into their last ten minutes. 

"Bam has that badge and keeps looking at it like a momento." Mark noted quietly. "Leaving Youngjae and Jinyoung."

"Youngjae might be random like you." Jaebum's voice dropped a bit. "Considering what’s engraved on Jinyong’s chest though.” Jaebum’s voice dropped lower still until it was barely a breath. “The fire was rumoured to be arson but there were no charges. The guy had a son and daughter." Mark eyed the wide shoulders now being used to carry Yugyeom's half consciousness body. 

"Time to move on to the next game," the voice clicked over the speaker. Mark arched an eyebrow but as they all started looking for a door, the ceiling opened up and a rope ladder fell to the floor.

"You've got to be shitting me." Rubbing his temples as much as his hands allowed, Mark started trying to figure out the best way to get them up with two people unable to climb and eight minutes on the clock. "Send Jackson up first."

"Why me?" The defensive look was back and Mark fought the urge to hit him.

"Because you're the strongest, the least damaged, and Yugyeom is already on Jinyoung's back." The murmur of agreement rippled around him. "We need you up there to help pull us through.” Jackson looked at them, then at Yugyeom. “He needs you to get your head in the game. Take a deep breath and climb.”

When Jackson didn’t move Jaebum stepped forward, gently cupping Jackson’s face with a mock light tone in his voice. “This is a really fucked up exercise in team work, so you’re going to move your ass or I’m going to put my foot up it.” Mark bit his lip hard to keep from laughing. He figured it must have been something about Jaebum himself or maybe it was the fact someone not him was asking, but Jackson finally agreed.

With Jackson climbing up the ladder Mark held on to the collar of his shirt to keep his wrists up above his heart. Even without Youngjae telling him to do so Mark knew he had to keep them elevated. Silently he thanked all the medical and survival shows he had watched with his mom for the basic knowledge. As it stood, he was still losing blood but Youngjae had fixed the wraps around his wrists, slowing the flow and if he was lucky they would start to coagulate soon.

“How you doing?” Bambam murmured next to him. Shrugging a shoulder Mark gave a small smile. “You’re going up after Yugyeom on Youngjae’s back. Don’t argue, you won’t be able to climb up with those wrists.” Mark clicked his tongue then huffed. “You’ve done your civic duty here. It's our turn to help you okay?” Nudging Bambam with an elbow, Mark they watched as the four navigated Jinyoung and Yugyeom up the rope ladder.

Jaebum and Youngjae held the ladder as still as possible while Jinyoung and Jackson negotiated the small hole. Mark didn’t envy any of them but least of all Yugyeom who had his shirt stuffed in his mouth to muffle the cries of pain. After the first few Jackson had nearly called the whole thing off but a stern look from both Jinyoung and Jaebum made Jackson bite his tongue. Glancing back at the clock, Mark tried to stamp down the anxiety at the quickly dwindling numbers.

Less than four minutes.

“Alright Mark. You’re next.” Jaebum called over. “Four minutes, move it.”

Lucky for Mark, his trip up the ladder was quick and mostly painless. Moving his hands around made them bleed some but the moment he was hefted into the new room Jackson pushed him towards the wall where Yugyeom sat on the ground crying silently. Taking a quick glance around Mark saw a TV bolted into the wall flashing the same count down as one in the room below. Two minutes and three people. He didn’t like those odds.

Watching Jaebum appear through the hole, Yugyeom spoke quietly. “You should have just left me. I wouldn’t have known any better.” Jinyoung appeared through the hole. “I can’t dance anymore and I’ll just slow you down.”

“Well call me selfish.” Mark gave his best smile. Yugyeom needed to get out of that headspace before it took hold. “But you owe me dinner and a blow job.” Yugyeom blinked a few times before breathlessly laughing. “Besides, you’re too cute to be blown up.” 

“You get us out of here, Mark, and I’ll _marry_ you.” Yugyeom brushed his tears away. Across the room Mark caught sight of Jackson watching them, mouth a thin line. Through the opening, Bambam crawled up and was herded away from the hole with barely seconds to spare. They had made it. “Two for one if Jackson ever gets ov-”

The room shook as an explosion rocked the foundations and debris flew up, dust and smoke rising up the room with it. Even after being disarmed the bomb collar had gone off.

Six of seven traps were escapeable.


	2. Gas Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're calling this: Shit Gets Real

The moment the room had begun to rock Mark scrambled to kneel in front of Yugyeom and curl protectively around the man’s head. Around them Mark could hear someone’s scream though his ears were throbbing from the explosion. Yugyeom sobbed into his chest while his leg got jostled around as the floor rumbled under them. Part of Mark wondered if the floor was going to collapse as the sound of a second blast went off making the light flicker a moment. Pressing Yugyeom’s face into his chest more Mark curled his shoulders in keeping the flying bits of whatever from hitting Yugyeom’s head. It would be easier to dig out the bits of tile and debris from his arm than it would the man’s face. They had enough issues without one of them being blinded. Mark just hoped the other five were able to react as quickly as he did.

After what seemed like an hour the room finally settled down, smoke still rising slowly. Mark nearly jumped as Jackson dropped next to them, already Jackson was pulling Yugyeom’s face to him. Standing to give them a moment, Mark moved to check on the others. Youngjae was curled up in Jinyoung’s lap, face pressed tightly into his neck as the two of them shook. Jinyoung had bits of debris buried in his back where he had used his body as a shield. Jaebum stood holding Bambam, both of them covered in dust from how close they had been to the entrance they’d come through. A nasty cut above Jaebum’s eye bled bright red over the grey soot covering it. Checking back to Yugyeom and Jackson the two were clinging to each other but the look of gratitude Jackson was giving him told Mark that he had earned some good will with the man.

With the seven of them still breathing, accounted for, and none of them seeming to have any additional damage from a hidden trap, Mark began casing the space they were in. The room itself was made of smooth concrete, even the ceiling was cement save for a drop chute. On one wall a caged storm light illuminated the room where it sat next to a fan, the blades moving slowly behind a grate as it pumped air into the room. With the limited light in the room Mark tried to see if there were any clues or traps laying around. Keeping his touch light he worked his way down the wall checking for anything that moved. Finding only solid cement he returned to the group.

Across from him Jaebum and Jackson had taken the other two walls while Youngjae and Jinyoung returned to working on Yugyeom’s leg. Arriving at the fan vent Mark had to stamp down his anxiety before he could approach it. A thousand and one scenarios played in his mind about what was going to happen if he got close enough to look inside. There could be mace or acid sprayed out. There could be a gun that could shoot him in his face. There could be a demon or -

“Guys.” Jackson’s voice caught his attention. Braving a quick look, Mark saw the flash of a canister between blade rotations but he couldn’t bring himself to get closer to look. “I found a second pressure plate.”

“There’s a door.” Jaebum’s voice was grim from the other side of the room. Mark looked between the two, Jackson sat in a squat in the middle of the room examining the area where a piece of the floor had raised itself up. Jaebum stood by the far wall, the deep scratches more visible now that he had given his shirt to Bambam and his tank top to Youngjae to bandage up Yugyeom’s leg. “There is a lock hole but there isn’t a handle on this side.”

“It’s probably under the pressure plate.” Bambam circled it with Jackson. The white haired man kept pulling the hem of the shirt down as he moved. Even if one of them were to wiggle themselves out of their pants or underwear Mark sincerely doubted it would do much good. The man was skinnier than all of them, even Yugyeom.

“The games have begun again and they will continue until the sins against the innocent are atoned for.” Mark jumped. None of them had noticed the TV had clicked on. Grabbing his shirt collar again Mark grimaced at the fresh surge of blood from when he had jerked them in shock. “This is a fairly straightforward task. In fifteen minutes the fan will turn on, introducing the chemical compound cyanogen chloride into the room. Your skin will burn. You will choke. Within a few minutes, you will lose enough faculties to be unable to escape this room. Within ten, some of you will lose consciousness or be paralyzed. By that time, the gas will have found the fire downstairs and this room will go up in flames with it. You won’t have time for your heart to stop.”

“Well that isn’t comforting.” Mark looked at the pressure plate then door. “This is too easy.” The look he got from the six were filled with confusion but unlike the first room there was no suspicion hiding there. Mark would take his small victory. Lifting his wrists then nodding to Yugyeom’s leg he continued, "We had to mutilate ourselves and that was just the first task. They wouldn't just get easier unless something else gets worse." 

“Clever boy Mark.” The puppet laughed, bead eyes catching the light and flaring bright red. “The physical task is straightforward.” There was a rattling in the drop chute for a moment before a body dropped to the floor with a wet smack that only meat on concrete could give, then a moment later a pocket knife. “The world is full of ugly things that must be done for the sake of survival. Want versus necessity.” They all eyed the body trying to figure out who it was.

“No.” Behind him Youngjae’s voice cracked in sudden recognition. “No, no, no.” Mark nearly turned to ask but the puppet moved on the screen again. "Byung-ho."

It was difficult to say how Youngjae knew the name of the person lying on the floor. Not because one would assume it was a stranger, but because the amount of injury made him difficult it recognize in any capacity. Burns covered his skin, blood seeped up from the peeled portions. The burns looked different from the burns on Yugyeom, there was no sign of blistering heat, fire licking at his skin. Not even the damaged clothing that had been eaten away wasn’t turned to ash from heat. Instead it was something corrosive and acrid, a sour smell mixing with the brine of him. A small dark part of Mark’s heart was relieved whoever was doing this hadn’t gone out of their way to snatch one of his siblings. 

“That was supposed to be you Youngjae, however he got in the way. Now you have another chance to dodge death, your partner on the other hand, will not.” The puppet’s mouth moved and somehow managed to convey the mocking tone. “The handle is beneath the pressure plate but once you lift it the gas will fill the room." Youngjae’s sobs became muffled as Jinyoung pressed his face back into his neck. “Mark, are you familiar with the book There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed A Fly?” Mark’s hands shook. The implications made his stomach lurch painfully. The screen faded to black leaving the fifteen minute countdown.

A small groan from Byung-ho made everyone in the room flinch. By all rights the man should have been dead between the burns, the chest wound, and the impact from the fall the fact his heart was beating was nothing short of a twisted miracle. Mark had sincerely hoped that he was dead to save everyone, including the poor man, a lot of pain. The long stitched incision up his chest where the shirt had melted away in places only confirmed they would have to dig around the man's organs to find they key. Youngjae being the only nurse would have made him the best choice but the connection and the fact he was sobbing into Jinyoung's chest nixed that idea.

"Youngjae…" Mark tried to keep his voice low.

"H-he," Youngjae hiccuped a sob. "He saw us b-being t-taken. H-he was t-trying to h-help." Mark frowned staring between Youngjae and Jinyoung.

"I work reception in the hospital we must have been snatched at the same time." Jinyoung eyed Byung-ho sadly. They all were coming to the same conclusion. Someone was going to have to cut open the man's chest. 

Stepping back, Mark turned to the others, huddled close and keeping their voices down. Approaching them Mark caught the tail end of Yugyeom's sentence, "-should we? Will it just hurt Youngjae more?"

"I doubt he'll be able to handle it either way." Mark glanced back. Youngjae was kneeling next to Byung-ho's body, fresh tears rolling down his face. "Jackson, Bam, stay with Gyeom." Mark blinked a few times as his vision turned blurry then slowly refocused.

"You stay with Gyeom and we'll work the pressure plate." Jackson countered. Already feeling dizzy again, Mark let them help him down. He wouldn't be much help if he fell and got a concussion. "Who's gonna…" Jackson's words trailed off as they all looked over.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't supposed to be this way." Youngjae's hands were steady as they reached for the knife. "I love you.." Mark saw the blade flash only a moment before it slipped into the skin of Byung-ho's neck. The man gasped a moment, body tensing with a small tremor and then he was gone. "I'm sorry." Something broke in Youngjae but as quickly as he began to collapse Jinyoung pulled him away. Youngjae buried himself into Jinyoung’s chest as Jinyoung gently rocked him back and forth. Jinyoung looked ready to fight anyone who would suggest that the younger did any more leaving three people to do the second part.

Jackson. Jaebum. Bambam.

Mark wasn’t sure which of them would finally cave. Glancing at the clock the numbers continued to tick down mercilessly.

"Go to the plate." Jaebum's hands shook, giving away his fear under the calm tone. "We have ten minutes."

Holding Yugyeom's hand tightly in his Mark watched Jackson and Bambam stand by the pressure plate looking both guilty and relieved. It was a sentiment he shared with them. 

Jaebum reached for the knife and lifted the part of the shirt that remained in tact with one hand, jaw already clenched tight in resolution. Before he could cut, however, he jerked his hand away with a hiss of pain. The others looked back at him curious of the cause, aside from the smell and apparent damage there was no signs of anything on the man, but a glance at Jaebum’s hands had Mark’s already sunken stomach dropping a little further. He didn’t think it could go lower. The same burns that covered Byung-Ho’s skin were blooming on Jaebum’s where he had touched the material and spreading outward. 

“It’s soaked in whatever… whatever he said. Chlor-something. How am I even supposed to touch it?” Jaebum’s hand was starting to shake, the skin still burning but unwilling to wipe his hands on any part of him for obvious reasons. 

“Here,” Yugyeom called, sniffling and reaching out. “Come here, give me the knife.” 

Mark considered stopping him, and the look Jackson threw them made it even more tempting, but Jaebum crawled over and handed the pocket knife over. “Help,” the kid commanded, taking the knife and pinching the fabric covering his undamaged leg. It took almost one full, precious minute, but they managed to get the lower half of Yugyeom’s pants cut off and ripped away to use as a glove of sorts to move the shirt. 

Finally, Jaebum was able to cut the shirt open and rip it away. Part of the torn, toxic material was placed over Byung-ho’s face in a small show of respect. That done, he took a deep breath and severed the stitches that split the man’s torso down the middle. Mark didn’t think he’d ever be able to un-hear the sound. 

_Pop._

_Pop._

_Pop._

Mark couldn’t tell if it was the smell of blood or the sound of it that was worse. The knife severed the stitches, but Jaebum’s hands would have to do the rest. Jaebum let out a choked little noise before he had to reach with both hands and push the skin aside. Jaebum’s tan face, paler than it should have been from loss of blood, went a little green as blood that seemed too red to be normal even under these circumstances started to cover his skin. For all their sakes, Mark hoped Jaebum wouldn’t heave. 

Jaebum had begun to pull parts out in his search but Mark couldn’t watch it anymore, and the way Yugyeom’s breathing was speeding up meant he probably shouldn’t either. Knowing that Yugyeom wouldn’t look away of his own volition Mark reached up, pulling the taller man’s head down and burying his face against his shoulder. It was a ways down, but Yugyeom shifted a little to curl into him anyway.

Six minutes.

When he spoke up, Jaebum’s voice was shaky as much as his legs were. “I found it,” he choked out. Jaebum passed the key to Jackson, then looked again at his bloody, trembling hands as if they belonged to a stranger. Mark could pinpoint the precise moment he realized there was nothing he could wipe his hands on. Jaebum’s breathing picked up, eyes widening a little wildly until Jackson surged back to his side and put a hand on either side of his face. 

“Hey. Hey, look at me, okay? Look at me.” Jackson held Jaebum's face, forcing eye contact until he was sure he wouldn’t look away. Jackson then ripped at his own button down until the material slid off, keeping eye contact he gave it to Jaebum so he could use it to scrub at the bright red blood on his hands. “Use this.” Jaebum’s hands clutched the wadded material almost painfully tight.

It took a precious extra minute for Jaebum to clean his hands, but it was worth it to see some of the panic recede in Jaebum’s face. For just a heartbeat Jaebum slumped against Jackson, wide shoulders shaking a little even as Jackson whispered comforting words and held him close. Mark couldn't bring himself to call attention to the timer, not after Jaebum had done what Mark didn't think he could have done himself. Mark had joked they all owed him dinner and blow job after this but all things considering, Mark felt they owed Jaebum at least two of each for saving their asses.

Finally, Jaebum dropped the ruined material to the floor, clearing his throat as he moved away. “Jinyoung,” he called out, jerking his head toward where Mark and Yugyeom were still watching. "Help me get these two up. Once that plate moves we have to move quickly."

"You're still with us so I think it's safe to say you missed the arteries." Jinyoung checked Mark’s wrists when he squatted down next to Yugyeom.

Taking in Jinyoung's somber look and Jaebum's blank one, Mark dredged up a smile. "What a relief since I'm marrying Yugyeom here and getting a ton of blow jobs once we escape."

There was a heartbeat of silence but then a small watery laugh came from Yugyeom. Two small chuckles laden with tears came from Jaebum and Jinyoung. Letting Jaebum lift him up by the armpits Mark leaned heavily on him, the adrenaline spikes were getting shorter and shorter leaving him more exhausted than the last. Mark didn’t want to think about what would happen when his body finally gave out or worse, he died. It was clear the six of them needed him so he would push and hold on as long as he could. Mark just hoped it would be enough. 

Jinyoung already had Yugyeom up and was slinging the long arm around his neck. Glancing at the clock again Mark's heart sank. 4 minutes.

Standing by the door the five of them watched Jackson and Bambam pry the pressure plate up with the pocket knife. As the blade finally wiggled under the plate the soft snick of a lock sounded followed by the fan turning on. None of them were sure how long they had before the chemical would start to affect them but Mark hoped they could get the door opened before they were victims like Byung-ho. Out of the corner of his eye Mark saw Youngjae eyeing the man Mark assumed was at least his boyfriend. Losing someone you loved was terrible enough but being forced to watch as someone else dug through their insides for your own survival was it’s own special kind of torture.

"I hate smoke." Yugyeom's voice was so soft Mark nearly missed it. The fan that was now blowing the chemical into the room was also dumping out thick black smoke that curled around the floor. The air in the room already smelled sharp from the explosion downstairs but now a new scent was mixing with it. Belatedly Mark recognized it as the same sour smell that clung to Byung-ho’s body. “I only wanted to help my parents get out.” Tears gathered again at the lashes even as Jinyoung tightened the arm around his waist. “They died from the smoke.”

In the moments it took for Jackson and Bambam to pull the handle out and run over Mark was already feeling the effects so he was sure the rest of them were as well. All seven of them were coughing, Youngjae yelled something about holding their breath but Mark was having issues focusing past the dizziness. While Jackson and Bambam fought to attach the handle Mark had to focus hard on staying conscious.

The more the smoke filled the room, the more Mark's skin began to burn; behind his eyes a low throbbing headache started to build. The memory of what the puppet had told them came back. Maybe they should use the knife and take whatever gratification that asshole was going to get away from him. Next to him Jinyoung looked green around the gills and Jaebum pressed a free hand to his chest, breath coming in short pants. A quick glance to the timer showed less than a minute.

“ _Finally_!” Bambam choked out as he pushed the door open. 

The moment of victory was short lived.

Being closest, Bambam had jumped through the opening first only to scream and jump back into the room nearly knocking all of them over. “The floor is fucking _lava_.” Bambam’s voice was pitched high in pain.

“We gotta move.” Jackson coughed pushing through the door followed by Jinyoung and Yugyeom. “Move it.”

Even still inside the room, Mark could feel the heat coming out. “Toss the shirt on the floor.” Yugyeom spoke up. “Once you’re in Youngjae can carry you.” Without missing a beat Bambam did as told. Mark hoped the floor wouldn’t destroy the shirt. They were out of extras.

Jaebum maneuvered them through the door with barely a second to spare. They had just cleared the opening when a hydraulic piston hissed and slammed the door to the gas room behind them. Peaking over Jaebum’s shoulder from where he had buried his face in at the sound Mark noted that at least the gas would be sealed in the other area. The rubber and metal around the door would keep it from seeping into this room.

“How many more of these rooms are there?” Jackson hissed, helping Bambam onto Youngjae’s back before handing him the shirt. Thankfully, the material still looked in tact.

Resting against the crook of Jaebum’s neck again, Mark took a moment to breathe.

Two rooms cleared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hi to us on Tumblr!  
> https://bang-channies.tumblr.com/
> 
> hey kids we got a twitter:  
> S - https://twitter.com/hardstansonly  
> K - https://twitter.com/BChannies


	3. Boiler Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories are tricky things

Still having to lean heavily against Jaebum while the world spun on its axis, Mark tried taking in the new room. Almost through a tunnel, he heard one of them ask “What fresh hell is this?” but Mark couldn’t be sure who. The low pitched voice may as well have been his own.

Tracking his eyes around, he already didn’t like what he saw. The entire room was made of metal from the grates on the floor to the pipes that were bolted into the ceiling. More pipes lined the walls in uniformed rows that covered each square inch from ceiling to floor, save a door in the far wall and a blacked out window to their left. Dead center in the middle sat a large metal boiler with a TV bolted to it, the pipes feeding into the ones surrounding the room. The large gauge on the boiler read 80F/26C which Mark assumed was the temperature. He had thought it was just from blood loss that his vision was getting hazy, but it must have been the heat rising from all the metal in the room. Now instead of racing against a bomb or poison, they were racing against heat. Peachy.

A low clunk from inside the boiler sounded, making the temperature gauge rise and no doubt dumping more heat into the room. “Well that’s not great.” Jinyoung eyed the gauge moving to 81F/27C. “We don’t have much time if it's actually eighty-one degrees in here. Fan out but be careful.”

Mark tried several times to move out of Jaebum's hold to better divide and conquer but each time he did Jaebum barely moved an inch before having to reach forward and keep him upright. Eventually, they came to the silent agreement to stick together. Pointing to the window, he and Jaebum made their way over to examine it. Just the short walk made Mark’s head hurt.

"It doesn't look like it leads outside." Youngaje spoke quietly next to them as he walked over from where he and Bambam had been examining the door. Even carrying Bambam on his back the two moved faster than Mark and Jaebum did. Mark had a sinking suspicion that was going to end up becoming a problem sooner than later. “There looks like a seal around the edges. More gas?” Youngjae wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “Is there anything we could use to break it?” A glance around them showed only solid metal grates and welded pipes. “Could just be another boobytrap.” Mark wanted to ask if he was okay but it was a dumb question. None of them were okay and after the last room, Youngjae would no doubt be more scarred than even Yugyeom.

"It's still our best option," Bambam finally said as he dropped the shirt to give Youngjae a break. "That door handle over there is hot, extremely hot. If there is a fire behind it and we open it," Bambam snapped his fingers, "Backdraft. The oxygen will hit like a wall and the room explodes. We go with it." Mark grimaced and glanced back up at the glass. 

If Mark was being honest, he didn’t like the feel of the window. There seemed to be something off about it; it just seemed too easy of an answer, like the pressure plate in the gas room. Not only that, but he remembered watching a movie with his dad about backdrafts when he was younger - he and his dad were always suckers for a De Nero movie. Coupled with the fact that Bambam was the son of a firefighter it seemed that the window was their best way out. 

Shifting a bit, Mark sighed, "Oh joy." He scrunched his face, then weakly tugged at his tee shirt until Jaebum got the memo and helped him pull it off, leaving him in just a thin tank top. The movements hurt but it helped relieve some of the pain in his shoulders from holding his wrists up. "Here. It's too hot anyway." 

Bambam eyed the material for a long time before he took it. Dropping it on the floor, he picked up Jaebum's to slide it back on. Mark couldn't blame him. Jabeum's shirt reached down further than Mark's would have.

Quietly, Bambam whispered a small, "Thanks." 

Fluffing his hair with a grin, Mark breathed past a dizzy spell.

Another clunk from the boiler caught their attention. Steadily the gauge moved again to 85F/29C

Joyful. Mark’s chest squeezed as the sweat started to slide down his back. Muttering in English Mark complained, "Man, how am I gonna get laid with swamp ass?" There was a strangled noise from Bambam before the Thai man nearly doubled over laughing filled Mark with both amusement and embarrassment. So there was at least one other English speaker here. 

"Over here guys." Jackson's voice came from across the room. On the other side of the boiler Jackson was waving them over.

Helping Bambam back onto a clearly confused Youngjae’s back, the four of them made their way over to the far corner. Squatting next to a small wooden chest, Jackson looked spooked. None of them knew what was in the box and the current "game" didn't have any set rules just yet.

"We can't wait for that TV to come on." Jinyoung shifted Yugyeom, both looking pale and uncomfortable. "If that thing goes up any higher we're gonna start falling from heat exhaustion."

As if to confirm, the boiler clunked. To their horror it didn't go up by one degree or two but straight to 90F/32C

"Yup. We're all gonna have swamp ass at this rate." Mark dead panned in English trying to get another laugh from Bam, since the Thai man kept eyeing the doors with increasing worry. If one of them started to panic and it spread to the rest they were dead. From the floor, he heard the first honest to god laugh from Jackson followed by a chuckle from Bambam. Two English speakers. Three if he included himself. Maybe they could use it to their advantage. 

That was if they started to trust him. 

Even after shredding his wrists and helping get them through the gas room, Mark wasn’t stupid enough to think they were suddenly on his side. He wouldn’t trust him if he was in their shoes. Being the most removed from this entire situation was highly suspicious, but Mark figured that’s why he had to hurt himself as severely as he did. If he had just been in one of the headgears or the bomb collar, they never would have believed him and they’d be dead. Trust would have to come with time, provided they didn't die. Maybe if they ended up breaking the window, they could get a piece of glass big enough to use as a weapon to use if they met their captor.

"Is it drugs?" Mark tried a joke again getting a few giggles from the group. "If there’s a latte in there, I call dibs. I'm fiending." That earned him a direct smile from Jackson. 

Mark would be lying if he said that he wasn’t afraid of what was going to happen when the box opened. The dark wood looked a little charred, but when Jackson cautiously lifted the top it opened easily. As it lifted completely open, a small tinkling tune spilled out from the chest, a disjointed lullaby no doubt created by missing prongs on the comb the cylinder brushed against.

Mark barely had time to register what was in the box before Yugyeom jerked back so hard he fell and took Jinyoung with him while at the same time Jackson tried to jump to his feet but only managed to land flat on his back. As soon as the three made contact with the hot metal on the floor they each hissed and tried to scramble back up. Yugyeom and Jinyoung sported slight burns on their hands but Jackson now had a grate pattern all but branded into his shoulder blade. 

With some difficulty, Mark lowered himself to his knees in front of the box before pushing Jaebum weakly towards Jackson. Even without the burn in his shoulder something about the box had him sobbing. Once Jaebum pulled Jackson to him, Mark lifted the lid again to take in the contents.

A half burnt children’s book with “Lucas” written in a child’s clumsy handwriting. The barely recognizable remains of a stuffed animal. Distantly Mark remembered Jackson saying he lost a brother to the fire.

A mangled set of wedding rings tucked into a pair of charred women’s dancing shoes. Yugyeom’s parents were dancers, or at least his mom was. The burnt leg wasn’t just aimed at Yugyeom himself and Mark found a new level of hate to sink to for whoever did this.

Finally on the bottom, under a half dozen other charred objects, were two pictures. One had two smiling people holding who Mark assumed was Yugyeom as a child but he couldn’t be sure. The face of the child had been burnt away with a lighter. The second picture was another family with two boys but again one of the boy’s faces had been scratched off so hard the paper ripped.

The objects were obviously meant to be an attack instead of sentimental. Hellish keepsakes of the worst day of their lives. Adding to the sinking feeling in Mark’s gut was that this also meant whoever did this had been planning this for a long time. Probably since the fire happened. Mark took another tired look around the room and wondered if the person made all of these rooms in the years between. 

How much hatred for six innocent kids had to be in one person to do all of this?

“Hello boys.” The sound from the mounted TV made them all jolt. The puppet was back on the screen. “The music box triggered a timer within the boiler. It will play for ten minutes and for each minute, the room will go up another degree. If you cannot escape within that ten minutes the boiler will increase directly to three hundred. Providing you do not die of heat exhaustion first, you will be baked alive.” Mark ran a hand through his sweat soaked hair. “Memories are a funny thing aren’t they? So often we only remember what we want to remember and take it at face value. Can you face what is inside that box? The clock is ticking.”

“After that chemical, we probably have less time.” Youngjae said quietly once the TV clicked off again. “Bam. Climb down I’m going to do another look around the room.” Tossing the shirt to the floor next to Yugyeom, the man took over holding Yugyeom up so that Jinyoung could go help Jinyoung search around the room.

Mark wanted to argue that clearly the way out was in the keepsake box and to recanvas a metal room was pointless. Glancing up at the timer he frowned. He would give them another minute while he kept digging through the box.

Among the other charred objects were little melted army soldiers, broken jewelry, even a handful of baby teeth. Mark’s heart ached for all of them.

Examining the pictures again, Mark finally caved. “There’s something written on the back of the pictures.” Mark sighed not wanting to force the issue, but no one seemed willing to do it. Glancing up, Jackson was all but burrowed into Jaebum’s chest and Yugyeom refused to look at him. “I’ll just read them out loud then.” He looked over at Jaebum who had, at least in Mark’s mind, become the de facto leader after the knife stint and waited. Jaebum took a breath, waited another moment, then gave a nod. “This is on the back of Yugyeom’s photo,” Mark cleared his throat so the other two could hear. “Little bird crying so loud, you covered my baby’s crying sound. Little bird with a broken wing, do you now know why the caged bird sings?” Mark rolled his eyes at the note. “Mr. Puppet man your rhyming is shit.”

“What does the other one say?” Jabeum asked holding Jackson’s head firmly against his neck. “We can be sassy after we get out of here.”

“Point taken.” Mark flipped over Jackson’s photo only to grimace. “I fucking hate this guy.” Jaebum’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Second shitty rhyme. Jackson, the only way to heaven is through the flames. Many died and you are to blame. Saved the bird but cost the flock. Now you’re on the chopping block.” Mark reread it another time to himself. “What the fuck does any of this mean?”

“I saw the firefighter in the hallway.” Jackson’s voice was small as he hiccuped a sob. Despite Jaebum’s hand still looking a little raw from the poison, the man carded his fingers through Jackson’s hair trying to comfort him. “Yugyeom’s leg was caught under a beam and I couldn’t lift it off of him. I was just trying to help him.” Jaebum’s words from earlier filled his brain. The person doing this was punishing people who were literal children. “I just wanted to help.”

“Maya Angelou quote aside, I’m calling bullshit on that window.” Mark picked up the box to shake it. The movement made his wrist burn and the room spin a bit as what little energy he built up was used. Nothing. “Anything guys?”

Across the room Jinyoung and Youngjae were studying the door. “It’s locked and too hot to touch, but at least there’s a handle this time.” Jinyoung eyed the boiler again as the gauge continued it’s crawl up. “We’re running out of time.” 

4 Minutes - 95F/35C

Mark eyed up the box again. The music still played and each time it restarted it made Jackson and Yugyeom let out a fresh sob, but not even closing the lid stopped the grinding tone. The box looked like it was glued together if the goo leaking at the corners was anything to go by. Maybe if they broke it there would be something hidden. Mark sighed helplessly at his wrists, looking up at the six around him. One of them would have to break it.

“Let me see.” Youngjae knelt next to him examining the soaked material keeping him from bleeding out. “You _really_ need to keep these elevated okay? And stop being an overachiever.” A sad look passed over the nurse’s face. “You’re using too much energy.” Mark knew what that meant. If he wasn’t careful, he wasn’t going to make it out of here.

Was making it out of here even an option?

The smash of wood against the wall kept Mark from having to think about that answer. Jinyoung seemed to have the same idea he did or was simply sick of hearing the music and threw it against the wall. In the shattered remains of the wood, more polaroids of burnt bodies were strewn on the floor. To their horror they seemed to have fallen out of the child’s book.

Mark couldn’t help but wonder if this was the work of a cop or another firefighter. No one should have been able to get pictures from the morgue and crime scene like that. Dozens of bodies burnt, some beyond recognition. Youngjae seemed to get himself together first and scrambled to pick up the pictures and keep Yugyeom and Jackson from having to potentially see their dead family members on the metal slab. Mark could have kissed him for that kindness.

“The music box.” Yugyeom’s voice was small as he finally spoke. “There’s a key on the mechanism.” The six of them followed to where he was pointing. Sure enough a key was taped to the side. “Looks like you were right Mark.”

Too tired to be sarcastic Mark simply lifted his arms up to allow Jackson and Jaebum to heft him to his feet. “I feel like I’m on a carnival ride.” Closing his eyes, Mark tried to get the world to stop spinning but it only seemed to move faster. “Alright kids. Who's gonna open that door?”

Slowly opening his eyes, Mark took in the six. Jackson and Jinyoung were arguing about whose hand was burnt from the leg trap worse. Realistically they needed both Jinyoung and Jackson as close to good health as possible. The two of them were obviously the strongest of the group physically. Even after getting a few good lungfuls of that chemical before being immediately thrust right into this sauna from hell, the two were functioning well. Could any of them ask Bambam or Youngjae to sacrif-

Mark blinked in surprise. Bambam, who had gotten back on Youngjae’s back, was next to Jinyoung and fishing the key from the man’s pocket without Jinyoung even noticing. Glancing around, it appeared that no one, not even Jaebum, had noticed anything. If they made it through this Mark wondered if Bambam would teach him how to do that.

The dull clunk from the boiler made Mark’s heart hurt. The gauge now read 100F/37C they had less than a minute.

“Guys lets go!” Across the room Bambam was fiddling with the key in the lock, spare shirt in hand while he twisted the handle.

“How the fuck?” Jinyoung patted his pockets. “When the fuck?” Jinyoung looked at him and Jaebum bewildered. “When the fuck did he get that?”

“When you were arguing with Jackson about which one of you is ‘less important’.” Mark air quoted the last two words. The air in the room was catching up to the gauge on the boiler. “C’mon we’re already out of time. If it gets any hotter, we’re toast.”

“Steamed.” Jaebum shot back and Mark couldn’t keep himself from laughing even if they got glared at. “At least you think I’m funny.” Jaebum winked. If it wouldn’t be highly inappropriate Mark would have kissed him. If anything happened to him between this room and hopefully them getting out Mark was sure Jaebum would keep the others together.

Gathering at the door, they all watched until Bambam finally got the right mix of lock turn and handle twist. Pausing a moment Bambam looked at them grimly.

“I hope you’re right about this Mark.” Slowly the knob turned. If there was a fire on the other side, they’d all go up but at least they’d be together. “God I hate this place. Brace yourselves.” The lock clicked open, then a blast of cool air.

Mark nearly fainted then laughed then fainted again.

When Bambam whipped the door open there was no explosion. No wall of fire. Just a cheap torch angled so the bright blue flame of it blew directly onto the door that would heat the metal handle. A beeping from the boiler behind them sent them all into motion sending first Yugyeom and Jinyoung through, then himself and Jaebum, followed by the other three. Hopping off from Youngjae’s back onto the floor Bambam slammed the door shut, the locking mechanism hooking back into place as the final _clunk_ of the boiler sounded.

Three rooms cleared.

The thought would have been more satisfying if Mark wasn’t staring at body bags hanging on meat hooks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hi to us on Tumblr!  
> https://bang-channies.tumblr.com/
> 
> hey kids we got a twitter:  
> S - https://twitter.com/hardstansonly  
> K - https://twitter.com/BChannies
> 
> Give Rae some love too:  
> https://twitter.com/6uglyguysandjae


	4. Body Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit continues get real in room #4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sound like a broken record but please take all tags seriously and please don't read more than you're comfortable - S

Mark stared confused at his reflection in the water. He was standing knee deep in the cool blue of the ocean, sand shifting between his toes. Distantly he could see his family on the beach waving to him and calling out his name. Moving sluggishly, Mark tried making his way to where they were, but the more he moved towards them the farther away they seemed to be, like the beach kept moving backwards. He tried calling out their names but found his voice didn’t work. When he glanced down at the water again Mark jumped, the once blue water now was stained red from his bleeding wrists. When something dragged him under the water, Mark found himself face to face with a jagged tooth shark staring at him with beady red eyes.

"Mark?" The word sounded far away, like it was coming from the end of a long tunnel. "Mark please wake up." Distantly Mark hated that he recognized Yugyeom's voice by the sob it carried. " _Please_. We can't lose you."

Opening his eyes was difficult but he chalked it up to how tired he was and how bright the light overhead shone. Taking stock, Mark realized he was in Jaebum's lap, body cradled gently in the man's arms with Youngjae frantically checking his pulse. He must have passed out from the sudden temperature change. Or blood loss. Either way it seemed that Jaebum had caught him before he hit the ground. He didn't feel any extra pain, but that could also be a result of the fact that the dull throb in his head had kicked up a notch.

"Picked a bad time for a nap." Jaebum sounded far more frightened than he looked. The others gathered around, pressed close like visitors at a hospital. After all of this Mark figured they were his new fucked up little family. Maybe he could convince them to move back to that states if they got out of this alive. He didn't think he'd be able to separate from them any time soon, he'd be far too worried about one of them getting taken again.

Blinking the dizziness away, Mark refocused on the room. "How long was I out?" He tried to move, but Jaebum's arms tightened to keep him still. "We need to start looking around and figure out the clues for this room." Above him Bambam and Jackson looked pale but nodded, making their way over to examine the bags.

" _You_ ," Youngjae scowled fiercely. "Are going to keep your happy ass right there with Yugyeom and _we_ will worry about the rest." Holding his hands up in surrender, Mark relented. He wouldn't be much good if he randomly dropped again.

Jaebum and Jinyoung set them both in the middle of the room so that they could see everything. Resting his head on Yugyeom's shoulder Mark tiredly took in the room already dreading what he was seeing. The room itself was nearly blindingly white from the paint on the walls to the clean cut tile that bounced the light off. In the middle of the room in a single row hung six black opaque body bags affixed to hooks and attached to a bar in the ceiling. On the other side of the room a door with what looked like a series of locks sat with a TV bolted to the wall next to it. Scrawled across the door in what Mark assumed was blood were the words " **AS MANY AS THE SINS.** "

"There are only five bags?" Jackson circled around them warily.

"I wasn’t supposed to be here." Youngjae choked out, turning away from the bags. “The puppet said that I was supposed to be the one with the key in the gas room.” The room went silent again. None of them having the heart to think about having to carve Youngjae open. Especially not now that they’d gotten to know him a little bit.

"They have names on them." Jaebum finally spoke as he walked to the one labeled with his name. "Do we open them?" The five with bags assigned looked at one another; already the dread was filling the room.

"Do we have a choice?" Bambam shot back walking up to the one marked for him. "If something jumps out to kill us, I'll give you your blowjobs in hell, Mark." Chuckling lowly, Mark sat up so that Youngjae could help Yugyeom over to the bag marked for him. "Guess I'll go first.”

Mark wished he could say that he was expecting what happened next. It seemed the only way this could have gotten _more_ fucked up.

When Bambam unzipped the bag he fell back with a shriek. In the body bag was a badly decomposed body in firefighter turnout gear hastily put on over the corpse. On the mottled skin of his forehead FAILURE was branded. Skittering back in a crab crawl, Bambam had moved so fast that he nearly ended up in Mark’s lap.

More screams and sobs echoed as Yugyeom collapsed at what Mark believed was his mother. The body looked like it had been badly burnt but a gold necklace hung from the blackened neck. Youngjae held him tightly and tried to pull Yugyeom up enough to lead him away.

Jaebum's bag was filled with cats and Mark couldn't begin to understand what the fuck the petty bastard was so hung up about. Jaebum had gone in to save a cat sure, but in the process also saved Jackson from being killed. Though he did have to admit, the grief that washed over Jaebum's face meant that the person doing this got their point across. Or maybe Jaebum was being punished for not letting Jackson die and the cats were simply the only way the creep could get to him, since they obviously wanted Jackson alive to suffer.

Jackson’s sobs drew Mark's eye to where the badly decomposed body of a child was dressed for a funeral. Jaebum had torn himself away from his own horror to once again pull Jackson to him. In the sobs, he could hear Jackson apologizing to Lucas for not being able to save him. 

Mark felt nauseous at the relief that it seemed none of his family would be in a bag. What kind of sick fuck digs up bodies of victims to put them on display?

"Jinyoung?" Mark stared curiously at the man. All eyes turned to Jinyoung who stood in front of his unopened bag looking like a lost child. The wide shoulders were curled in like Jinyoung was trying to make himself smaller, to take up less space.

"Its my sister." The man touched the words carved into his chest. "I don't have to open it to know." Mark watched with a heavy heart as Jinyoung slowly opened it. Just as he predicted a young woman with long brown hair hung in the bag. There were obvious signs of decomposition but not as much as the others in the bags, nor was she burned. Mark wasn’t an expert but he would guess that she hadn’t been dead more than a handful of years.

"Jinyo-"

"She didn't die in the fire." Jinyoung brushed some of the dark hair out of her face. Mark didn't need to be close to know tears were falling down. How many years did it take for Jinyoung to learn how to sound like he wasn’t crying even when he was? "Do you know what it's like to be the child of a killer?" The words were soft. "The fire was my father’s fault. He tossed a cigarette in the corner because he was wasted before getting in the car and driving off. They got him for a DUI but couldn't make the arson charges stick." That made even Yugyeom glare up furiously. “He’s been in and out of jail most of my life. I barely know him.”

"So he got off?" Bambam leapt up from the floor in outrage. "People _died_ and he? HE JUST GOT AWAY WITH IT?!"

"Yes." Jinyoung didn't look at any of them, eyes firmly on his sister. "We almost died too you know." That made all of them stop, Bambam actually taking a step back. "About nine years ago one of the people who lost family in the fire tracked us down. He started stalking us and vandalizing our house. It was everyday for months." 

Mark forced himself onto his knees and then to his feet ignoring Youngjae trying to grab him. 

"We were already used to being bullied at school, harassed on the street, and threatened so what was another person right?" Jinyoung finally looked at them then traced a crescent shaped scar on his abdomen. The line of puckered skin curved from his hip up his stomach and ended just above his navel. It was a testament to how fucked up the rest of the situation was that until it was pointed out Mark had completely missed the scar. "One day he pulled out a knife trying to gut me. I survived but he stabbed her in the throat when she tried pulling him off. I remember her begging for help.” Tears slid down Jinyoung’s cheeks though he made no move to wipe them away. 

“No one called the cops for nearly ten minutes. They just watched us bleed." Jinyoung moved her hair to show the killing wound. "That’s what happens when you're dad is a shit bag. No one gives a fuck if you're cut down in the street.” Jinyoung paused a moment to sniff back a few tears then added in a small voice. “No one comes to your funeral." Jinyoung looked between Jackson, Yugyeom, and Bambam with a steadier voice, "Get out whatever you have to now. Because once that TV turns on we won't have time to argue or whatever. I'll accept dying from one of you three but not this asshole who has us trapped."

Forcing one foot in front of the other Mark felt like a cheap zombie extra as he stumbled his way across the room. Everything in him was demanding that he reach Jinyoung to comfort him. When he got close enough Mark wrapped his arms around Jinyoung, pulling the man close. He couldn't help but wonder the last time someone held him. Was it his sister? Did he even _have_ friends to comfort him? Had Jinyoung been left alone to grieve his only family?

"It wasn't your fault." Mark tightened his arms as much as he could. "You were just a kid. It wasn't your fault. Or hers." Slowly Jinyoung's arms circled around him. Jinyoung sobbed hard enough to shake his frame but was utterly silent. "You are not your father. This isn't your sin to pay for."

The room stood silent a moment until Jackson appeared and wrapped Jinyoung up in an embrace as well. Yugyeom and Bambam joined them a few moments later. Jaebum and Youngjae both placed a hand on Jinyoung’s head in solidarity. As a group, all of them grieved for the people lost and a little boy who had to carry so much tragedy in his heart.

Pressing a kiss to Jinyoung’s forehead, Mark fought the exhaustion pulling at him. "I'm going to get you all out of here." Mark promised them quietly. "Then I'm taking you back to LA with me and far away from all this bullshit."

A moment of silence passed and then Jaebum cleared his throat. "Well come on." His voice was back to its aloof tone. Mark untucked his face from Jinyoung’s neck to see him staring at the TV. "You've had a schedule up until now."

Silence.

"I need to sit." Mark breathed past a wave of dizziness. He didn’t have _time_ to be dizzy. He needed to figure this out and get them out of here like he promised.

"I got you." Youngjae looped an arm around his neck and helped him move. With an exasperated sigh Youngjae scolded him. "What did I say about keeping your ass in one spot?" With Mark now gone Yugyeom shuffled a bit to take his place. "Mark you _have_ to rest." Youngjae pitched his voice lower. "Without fluids and a transfusion I can't help you if you pass out again." Mark chewed the inside of his cheek. "Jb." The man turned to them. "You're the only person Mister LA Gangster here listens to. Come make him rest." Jaebum eyed the four one more time then came over.

"Really Mark." Jaebum arched an eyebrow at his wrists. "There can only be one bleeder here and I was bleeding first. You need to figure out a new bit." Mark giggled a bit as they passed him between them.

"I was afraid they were going to turn on him. Or each other." Mark let Jaebum take them to the door and lowered him onto the ground. "As many as the sins. What bullshit."

"Hello boys." The TV finally clicked on. As usual the demented puppet was back looking at them with it's glass eyes. "Superficial forgiveness is useless. You have to dig deep into hearts to be released." Mark blanched at that. He prayed harder than he ever had in his entire life that they would not have to cut open the bodies. "If you cannot find it in yourself to forgive you will be stuck in one place for eternity. You have two hours."

"That's some big fucking words coming from you." Bambam snapped pissily. " _He_ is telling _us_ to forgive? Fuck you." 

"Hey." Yugyeom caught Jinyoung's face in his hands. "There is nothing to forgive. You are a victim, just like us." Jinyoung said nothing but turned his face in Yugyeom’s hands accepting the comfort. "Jackson, Bam, go see what's up with the locks. Jinyoung can help me move around so Youngjae can have a break. Right?" Jinyoung nodded, pulling Yugyeom to him again. There were still tears in their eyes but now Jinyoung looked more relaxed than Mark had seen him since they woke up in the first room.

"I get first dibs on blow jobs." Mark called over making the two of them choke out a laugh. "Just saying, I already called it." The watery smiles he got from the two helped ease the tension. "Jb I promise to sit on the floor and not move.” Mark crossed his heart with a finger. “Now please go pull Jackson over here." The man had wandered back over to the bag holding his little brother. "Bam," the Thai man crouched next to him. "Wouldn't happen to have a water bottle in that dress of yours?" Bambam rolled his eyes with a grin. "Damn. Can you describe those locks to me. I'd get up but Youngjae might beat me up."

"I will." The nurse scolded next to him.

“Top lock is a dial where you spin the knob. Like in school. Numbers are one to forty.” Bambam called over his shoulder. “Looks like it undoes a latch here.” He pointed to where a metal piece was welded in. “Second lock needs four letters.” 

Mark nearly sighed. Naturally, all seven were all different. 

“Third one is another letter lock, five letters this time. Fourth is a dial pad. Five needs a pattern and six is another rotating lock.” Mark let his head slump down but Bambam seemed to be laughing. “If there is anything to be amused about, it’s that you really fucked this guy’s whole plan up Youngjae.”

“What?” Youngjae frowned. “What does that mean?” 

“This.” They followed Bam’s finger to where it pointed at the seventh lock. It was obviously newer then the rest and hastily welded on. A simple deadbolt that had a spin lock with letters. Youngjae really had derailed the plan some. “None of them seem dependant on the others so I think we can mess around with them and work through the easier ones.”

“Alright kids.” Mark looked around. Yugyeom and Jinyoung were sitting next to him while Jackson floated close to Jaebum, fingers loosely twined together. “What lock do we start with first?”

“First one. Try the date of the fire.” Jinyoung spoke up. Bambam spun the dials but the lock remained firmly closed. “Try it backwards?” No luck.

Chewing on the inside of his lip, Mark frowned. “Wait. School locker right?” Bambam nodded. “Try eight, twenty six, thirty six.” When the lock clicked open Mark felt sick.

“How did you know?” Yugyeom inched closer.

“That was the combo for my lock in high school. I still have it.” Mark gritted his teeth. There were two possible reasons the creep would know it. Either they had raided his hotel room and found the lock he had used to secure his second bag. Or, and it was really the more terrifying option, the person who did this hired him to come to Seoul. Mark vaguely remembered talking about the lock with the person who hired him on his first day when they went out for drinks. 

 

“That’s spooky and I don’t like it.” Jackson finally spoke up. “So this means there is one for each of us right?” Mark shrugged and nodded. “So we just need to figure out which lock belongs to who.” Mark couldn’t hear whatever Jaebum said to Jackson but it made the man relax a bit.

“Next one is a letter lock.” Bambam clicked FIRE, FAIL, LOVE. None of them worked.

“Try FUCK.” Youngjae snorted when Bambam huffed angrily. 

“Put in CATS.” Jaebum gritted his teeth. To no one’s surprise it clicked open.

“What’s it like to not have hobbies?” Mark asked the timer on the TV. Even if he wouldn’t admit it Mark knew that whatever person doing this was being generous with time. If they simply wanted to torture and kill them the first room would have been more than enough, never mind the last three rooms. They were meant to survive this. Somehow that was less comforting than the idea of being killed. 

That train of thought lead to another. What happened when they eventually got too tired to go on? What happened when he inevitably died from blood loss? Granted, it wouldn’t be Mark’s problem anymore but he had a promise to keep and blow jobs to get damn it. 

At some point in their spitballing, Mark noticed that Jackson had taken to pacing around the room. The younger stayed away from the bags hanging from the ceiling but paced the room in measured steps. After the fifth, maybe seventh pass around the room Mark elbowed Jaebum and gave a pointed look. Youngjae had made the comment that Jaebum was the only person he listened to, but Jaebum also seemed to be the only person aside from Yugyeom that Jackson actually felt comfortable enough to touch. Mark had noticed it in the gas room and again in the boiler room where Jackson stood at least two steps away from the rest of their group, touching Mark only long enough to pull him through the hole and fleeting touches to others in comfort or to help. Excluding the hug to Jinyoung, their de facto leader was the only person Jackson had let near him.

“Hey.” Jaebum caught Jackson by the shoulders. The two were just close enough that Mark could hear Jaebum’s low voice and Jackson’s quick breathing. The look on the younger’s face was going from twitchy to wild. “Jacks, we need you to focus.”

“Easy for you.” Jackson’s leg started bouncing. “I haven’t had my meds today and even if I did they would be doing fuck all good.” Jackson chewed his lip. “The stress, that heat room.”

“Its okay.” Mark wondered if Jaebum was part cat for all the aloof calm he seemed to extrude. Or a capybara. “Come over with us. I got you.”

There was more debate on whether to move on or not but without context for the locks all of their attempts failed. Mark’s suspicion that the person who did this to them was a victim of the fire, or a survivor only became more cemented with each new test. Thinking back to each of the rooms it made the most sense with what’s been happening to them. The first room forced dependency by hobbling two of them - three if he counted Jb who was taking the blood loss better than he was. The second room was test of the willingness to help people at the cost to yourself. The third room forced them to face the past and now this. The bodies of people they lost that were important to them. For the second time, Mark took a moment to be grateful that all his family was in America. Though considering the person who did this dug up bodies, including one of a _child_ , Mark didn’t hold out hope that his wrists would be the only thing that got fucked up from this hellscape.

“Mark when is your birthday?” Jinyoung asked suddenly.

Arching an eyebrow Mark answered, “September Ninety three.”

“Jb?” The others in the room watched Jinyoung curiously.

“January Ninety-four.” Jaebum frowned. 

“What if the locks are going in descending order of ages?” Jinyoung pointed at the door. “The first one was Mark, the second one Jb. I’m September Ninety-four.”

“March Ninety-four.” Jackson looked up again, eyes going to the door. “Guess mine is next.”

Jackson’s lock took nearly twenty minutes. Mark almost called it off, they were using too much time until suddenly Jackson glared at the door hard enough Mark was sure it was going to melt.

After a moment Jackson huffed, “Put in FENCE.” As Bambam clicked the letters the lock opened. “I did fencing on a national level until last year.” Jackson buried his face back into Jabeum’s shoulder.

The next two locks only took a few minutes a piece to figure out now that they had figured out the method to the madness.

Jinyoung’s lock was his sister’s birthday. 

Bambam’s pattern was his father’s firefighter nickname in Thai. 

“Youngjae’s will be the bottom one since he was the last added.” Mark pointed out while they puzzled over the sudden jump in locks. If it was by age Youngjae’s should have been before Bambam’s lock. “Yugyeom is the next one.”

After they tried a few numbers, each of them failing, when Youngjae frowned. “What if.” The nurse crouched down to study the locks. “What if they were changed up because I was a last add on.”

“So this one would be yours?” Bambam questioned getting an affirming nod.

“Three, oh, six.” Youngjae spoke as he turned the dial. When it clicked open, Youngjae added quietly. “It was our apartment number. We were in the country visiting my grandparents for my grandma’s birthday.” Youngjae moved away from the door. “We had left the day before the fire.”

Mark looked back at the time still counting down on the TV and had to admit they were making decent time. They were on the last lock with nearly forty-five minutes left. Looking over to Yugyeom he saw a potential problem. The horror of it all had finally caught up with the youngest of their group. Every so often, Yugyeom’s eyes drifted over to where his mother’s body sat in the bag, tears silently slipping out.

“Gyeom?” Shuffling closer, Mark placed a hand on his cheek but the youngest didn’t seem to see him. “Yugyeom.” Mark brushed a kiss to both of Yugyeom’s cheeks before pulling his head down. “Baby, I’m so sorry but I need you to focus. We can’t do this without you.”

When Yugyeom finally spoke it was soft, “My mom was a dancer.” Involuntarily Mark’s eyes were drawn to the burnt leg. “It’s why I became a dancer. Even though it was a different style, it helped when I missed her.” Yugyeom clutched the front of Mark’s tank top. “She used to teach me ballet poses when I was little. We had a big mirror in the bedroom so we could practice. I remember she used to dance around the house with me in her arms saying I was going to be long legged like her and we would dance together in front of the world.” Mark couldn’t stop his own tears from falling. “I’ll never be able to dance again. Just like she isn’t able to dance anymore. Even if we make it out, never again.”

Forcing his tired body to move properly, Mark got to his knees so he could pull Yugyeom to his chest. Carding his fingers through Yugyeom’s hair, Mark kissed the top of his head trying to give what little comfort he could. He wanted to scream at how unfair it was that they all had to keep losing things to this place.

“Its CHILD.” Jinyoung spoke quietly. “The final lock, the answer is CHILD.”

With nearly twenty minutes still on the clock Bambam rotated the letters and just like that the final lock clicked open.

“How did you know?” Yugyeom pulled away only enough that his voice wouldn’t be muffled by Mark’s shirt.

“The words on my chest. What he said about superficial forgiveness and deep in the heart.” Jinyoung made his way over to help them stand as Bambam and Youngjae started to rip the locks off the door. “The answer was as simple as looking at everyone here.” Mark couldn’t argue that.

The door opening was a little anticlimactic in Mark’s opinion. After Youngjae and Bambam got all the locks off and were able to get a good enough grip on the metal, they forced it open, the metal groaning from their effort.

The other side of the door was a child’s room in complete juxtaposition to everything they’d encountered so far. There was nothing burned, or scary. No riddles or blood on the walls. The room was so serene and peaceful that Mark was convinced that they’d finally reached the room they were meant to die in.

“Timer is still going.” Bambam motioned them through the door. Mark found himself being carried by Jackson as Jaebum and Jinyoung slung one of Yugyeom’s arms around each of their necks.

Four rooms cleared.

Once all seven of them where on the other side Mark found his eyes drawn to a little shelf and nearly collapsed in panic. Was there really no end to the bullshit? Finding his tongue somewhere halfway down his throat he stuttered out, “What the fuck?” Jerking his chin up across the room the other six finally noticed what he did.

On the litte shelf, the demented looking puppet that had been goading them on since the beginning sat innocently against a TV that was so old that by rights it shouldn’t even work. On the little square screen there was no timer, no laughing puppet or disjointed voice. The little screen was split down the middle, one half was a feed of all of them, in this room recording in real time while the other half was a chat room with thousands of watchers on the counter and a steady stream of comments rolling in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hi to us on Tumblr!  
> https://bang-channies.tumblr.com/
> 
> hey kids we got a twitter:  
> S - https://twitter.com/hardstansonly  
> K - https://twitter.com/BChannies
> 
> Give Rae some love too:  
> https://twitter.com/6uglyguysandjae


	5. Child's Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it gets The Realest(tm)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we did not realize bam actually lost is dad as a child. it was unintentional but we still feel bad :(

A click from the door behind them jolted Mark enough to tear his eyes away from the little TV. The timer must have hit zero, triggering the automatic locking mechanism within the metal. Mark took stock of the room still unbelieving that they had ended up here after everything they just went through.

The room was smaller than the previous ones, the walls were painted a light blue with little clouds sponged towards the ceiling. A small bed was tucked into the corner beside a toy chest with the lid opened to show in-tact items a child would play with. Some stuffed animals, a couple rubber balls, even a boxed up board game that looked as if it was still wrapped in plastic. The little bookshelf was stuffed full of children’s books and encyclopedias that would be too old for the kid this room was meant for. Mark remembered having them, or their American equivalent, since they had the good dinosaur pictures. He wondered if it was another strange connection with him or if all little kids liked having them. Even the area rug on the floor was unstained and unthreatening. Just a big rug with road lanes and train tracks so a kid could follow them with toys. Was this how their kid’s room looked before it burned with him inside it?

It was Jackson who finally spoke. “Let’s get Mark and Yugyeom on the bed.” 

“Hang on.” Babam shot forward, hands carefully grabbing at the material to pull it off. “It might be coated in that chlora-whatever chemical.”

“Or be a bed of nails.” Youngjae supplied helping Bambam take off the bedding. The dark blue comforter had little rocket ships flying around planets which clashed with the bright yellow sheets covered in fish. None of the material seemed to be disintegrating which Mark took a win. He highly doubted any of them would be able to survive another run in with the gas.

Mark watched in mild terror as the two pressed down with their hands half expecting one of them to scream in pain. When it didn’t happen they finally gave the nod for Mark and Yugyeom to be placed on it. The soft bed immediately made him want to lay down, even if it was just for five minutes, but Mark wasn’t confident enough that he’d wake up.

He could die after he got them out. At least that way he might have a shot of his body being taken back to his family instead of what ever happened to people who failed these rooms. 

Turning his attention back to the TV, Mark began reading the stream of comments rolling in. “Do you think…” Mark mumbled out loud without really thinking about it. “Do they think this is a cheap movie or something?” A few more comments rolled in. “Do they not realize they’ve been watching people being tortured?” Raising his voice Mark looked around the room trying to find the camera. “Hey assholes if you can hear me put a smiley face in the comments.”

The explosion of emojis in the comments made his stomach sink. After the initial wave, the comments returned to their previous vile shit.

User_7896: they should have died in the fire  
User_3423: that guy’s dad was the killer why save him???  
User_1658: they should have just blown all of you up  
User_4454: who tf saves a *cat* instead of a person????

The more comments rolled in, the more upset everyone became. Not that they had time to sit and really be upset, Mark wasn’t sure if they were on an unknown timer.

“Hey guys.” Mark cleared his throat. “Me and Yugyeom can’t do much so we’ll keep reading the comments in case there are any clues mixed in with the human garbage that seems to think this is funny.” Mark glanced at the others. “Start tearing apart the room. The books, the toys, the pictures. Everything.” Already the five were in motion. “Fuck all of you we’re not dying here for your shitty snuff film.”

“ _FINALLY_.” Bambam sounded triumphant. Glancing to the side Mark saw the younger shimming into a pair of pants that fit his skinny ass. With him fully dressed now it caused mixed reviews in the comments.

User_4575: better without the pants  
User_2324: says you i was sick of staring at his ass  
User_9541: they should have all been naked the hot room would have been funnier  
User_6326: that’s just sick dude

“Found a first aid kit.” Jackson called out from where he was ripping apart the toy chest.

Youngjae moved over from where he was shaking a book out and getting nothing. Mark did his best to read the comments over the top of the nurse’s head while the dried mess of cloth was peeled off of his skin. Occasionally Mark winced as it pulled off pieces of dried blood, making him bleed all over again. Inside the little white box there were packs of gauze, a bottle of antibiotic ointment, rolls of medical tape and even some Spiderman bandages.

“Look at this.” Jinyoung brought everyone close. In a small picture frame stood a trio of boys in matching baseball uniforms, the one in the middle smiling wide despite missing a tooth.

Just as Jinyoung went to set it back Yugyeom shot an arm out. “Wait.” The youngest looked over the picture again. “I know this kid.” Tapping the one in the middle Yugyeom looked up at Jackson. “He lived in the building. Next door to Mrs. Yoo right?”

“Yeah.” Jackson squinted at the picture. “I don’t remember his name.”

“The comments are blowing up.” Bambam motioned to the TV.

User_8792: it’s obviously the the puppet guy’s kid  
User_3556: he died bc jackson pulled the fire fighter to help  
User_2331: so this is a revenge thing i knew it

“Are you serious.” Jinyoung glared at the TV. “Are you all _really_ this removed from reality?”

User_7652: its clearly jackson’s fault  
User_9965: yugyeom would have been fine  
User_9965: even if he died he’s my least fave but if he did we wouldn’t get this movie so ://

Mark had to read a few comments twice to even be able to comprehend what was being said. The people watching really, truly, believed that this was fake. Or worse, they didn’t care.

User_1125: we’re all forgetting jb went in for a *cat*

That seemed to be the final straw for Jaebum. “Oh fuck _OFF_.” The whole room jumped at his shout. In the whole time they had been stuck in here Jaebum had never once raised his voice. Even when he had the right to. “I was a _KID_! I wanted to _HELP_!” Jaebum’s hands were fisted and shaking in rage. “I saved Jackson when he fell while the firefighter was carrying Yugyeom out. I went in for a cat but I _did_ help a person. Just because it wasn’t who this asshole thinks was the RIGHT person doesn’t make me or Jackson or ANYONE A KILLER.” The comments seemed to slow for a moment. “This isn’t a game or a joke so tell us something useful or shut the fuck up.”

Mark whistled low as the comments stopped for a whole 2 seconds in the wake of Jaebum’s rage. The man himself was breathing heavily, face red and nostrils flaring. Just as Mark was convinced they were going to go silent the comments re-exploded.

User_0234: yeah right you’re so full of it  
User_7135: where did you go to school for acting bc you’re terrible  
User_9461: still should have left jackson  
User_2135: should have just stayed inside to burn

Mark wasn’t sure if he could stomach reading anymore. Already Yugyeom had turned his face away to hide it in Youngjae’s shoulder. Then one message appeared that caught his attention.

User_0001: forgiveness comes from the heart  
User_1654: they’re right maybe you should apologize  
User_3498: yeah apologize. just in case

“ _APOLOGIZE_?!” Bambam rounded on the TV. “For _what_?” The Thai man was shaking now. “We were kids. Mark is from _AMERICA_.” Tears welled up in Bambam’s eyes. “What do any of us have to apologize for? We didn’t do anything wrong.”

User_4515: sure jan  
User_6200: not sounding very forgiving here  
User_3001: well you’re def acting like a child now

“I’m sorry.” All of their heads whipped to Yugyeom who stood up enough to make his way in front of the TV. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get out fast enough and it meant that I had to be saved.” Mark’s heart broke. None of this was their fault and yet they were now being forced to apologize.

_Snick!_

From where he sat Mark heard the soft click of a lock. The way the others were still staring at the screen, it didn’t seem that they had heard.

“I’m sorry.” Jinyoung stepped next to Yugyeom staring at the camera. “I should have woken up earlier before the fire got out of control.” Jinyoung spoke as if he had told himself that a million times. He probably had. This was the weight that hung around his neck like an albatross even if it wasn’t his curse to bear. “I didn’t know it came from our home until the trial but I’m sorry so many people died.” 

_Snick!_

Lucky for them whoever was unlocking the door found their apologies sincere.

One by one each of them stepped forward to the TV to apologize and Mark heard the locks clicking open with each apology spoken. The stream of comments slowed to nearly a stop leaving just a few nasty people adding their own opinions to the mix. When Jaebum finished his apology the six turned to look at him expectantly. Keeping in a sigh, Mark forced himself to his feet to approach the TV.

“I’m sorry.” Mark knew it wasn’t himself he had to apologize for. On shaky legs Mark inclined his head ignoring Youngjae’s look of knowing grief. This would be the last act of service that he would be able to do for them. Maybe if his family saw any of this, they would do what he couldn’t and take them in. Take them far away from Seoul or wherever the hell they were. “I’m sorry on behalf of all the people who stood by and watched. Who did nothing while people died. I’m sorry I wasn’t there and couldn’t have helped.”

_Snick!_

The final lock turning made Mark feel more at peace then he could ever remember feeling.

Turning back to the little bed Mark made his way over to lay down. The groan of a door was enough solace that Mark let his eyes slipped close. They would be able to make it without him.

As he drifted off, Mark was back in the ocean, soft sand under his feet. This time there was no blood or bead-eyed shark. Just gentle waves and warm sun.

Five rooms cleared?

* **Jackson** *

Jackson didn’t think their day? Night? Whatever could get any worse. Not after being kidnapped and stretched pillar to post mentally and emotionally. But yet here they were. Five rooms into hell with no real end in sight. Everything had been going good, amazing even, before they woke up in the first room. He and Yugyeom had _finally_ stopped having nightmares every time they laid down, his parents had started to recover from the loss of his brother. Jackson had foolishly started to think he and Yugyeom could have a semi-normal life. 

But now? Now, he didn’t think they’d ever feel safe again.

“Mark!” Jackson watched in horror as Mark collapsed onto the bed, barely breathing. 

“No, no, no.” Yugyeom had dragged himself across the floor to shake the American who had kept them all sane. They wouldn't have made it out of the first room without Mark and Jackson didn't think they could face anything on the other side of the cracked door without him. Mark had been the one to keep them all on point when they started to get too caught up in their pain or their past. Mark kept making stupid jokes when it seemed that they were going to break apart or turn on each other. “Please Mark. Please wake up.” Yugyeom buried his face into the barely moving chest. “How can I marry you and give you a million blow jobs if you die? Wake up. _Please_. I can’t lose you too.”

Pulling Yugyeom into his arms, Jackson tried to breathe past his own tears. He had known from the minute Mark shredded his wrists that the chances of him getting out were slim to none. Even so, watching as the man slowly died in front of them had been worse than standing in front of his brother’s casket the first time. 

“The door is open.” Bambam sounded defeated. “Let’s see what fresh hell awaits us.”

“Help with Yugyeom.” Jinyoung moved forward to pick Mark up and held him tightly. “No man left behind. We’re all leaving here together.”

Letting Jaebum and Youngjae lead, the six of them shuffled through the door. The basement they found themselves in wasn’t particularly interesting. There were no traps or messages or even furniture. Just cement foundations, a sewage pipe, a hot water tank and furnace tucked away into the corner. In the opposite corner a set of sturdy wooden stairs lead up to an open door where a light came through. 

Jackson wondered if it was stairway to heaven or a ray of false hope before being thrown back into hell?

“Do we go up?” Jaebum asked the group when they all finally stumbled their way into the center of the room. Bambam cautiously checked the stairs for any potential traps or tripwires, then under the stairs for any hidden horrors. To their surprise, Bambam shook his head before sitting on the second step to catch his breath. “Well?”

“Do we care?” Yugyeom sniffed brokenly. Jackson wanted nothing more than to hold his boyfriend but they needed to get out of here before the door closed or the pipe burst or the ceiling crashed down. Somehow the lack of danger in the room was making Jackson more terrified than the five rooms behind them. “What’s the point?”

“Mark is the point.” Jinyoung spoke quietly adjusting his hold. The American was pale, the gauzed up wrists resting on his stomach shifting slightly with each shallow breath. “He’s still breathing. We can still save him but we need to make it out. Even.” Jinyoung clenched his jaw for a moment before continuing. “Even if we can’t save him we need to make it out. For him.”

Jackson wished he could recall more of their escape. That there was something, anything, remarkable about the house they found themselves in but nothing stuck out. As they cautiously moved from room to room, the house was utterly empty. No blinds on the windows or furniture or decorations. The walls weren’t burnt or destroyed or covered in anything other than a layer of off white paint. Despite being empty the house wasn’t abandoned, more like holding its breath, waiting for someone to move in. 

A few turns put them in the kitchen where bottles of water and packets of fruit gummies sat lined on the counter next to a note and a burner cell phone. The kitchen surprisingly had a long kitchen table and a set of seven chairs. Like before, Bambam did a sweep of the table and chairs before motioning for Jinyoung to lay Mark on the table. Laying out on the dark wood Mark looked twice as fragile as he did in Jinyoung’s arms. Jackson took a moment to appreciate the amount of resilience, both mental and physical, that was packed into the man’s small frame.

“This is so fucked up.” Bambam moved to pass out the water and fruit snacks. “God I hate this place so much.” They all needed the water and sugar desperately. Their bodies had been stretched to the point that it didn’t matter if it was poisoned or not, they would all start crashing if they didn’t get something in their systems.

Helping Yugyeom down onto a chair, Jackson passed over a water bottle and fruit snack packet. Trying to ignore the cooked leg, Jackson leaned up to press a few kisses to Yugyeom’s face whispering how proud he was, how strong and brave his Gyeomie was. Nothing seemed to be getting through. Yugyeom just stared brokenly at Mark laying terrifyingly still on the table. Jackson didn’t think he would survive it if they lost both of them. 

Moving to Jaebum’s side Jackson placed a hand on the older’s shoulder. Laying on the counter the note was mostly burned, but Jackson could make out that it was a contact list. The neat handwriting was in large letters so a child could read it.

In case of emergency call:  
Mom - burnt out  
Dad - scratched out  
Uncle Jun - burned out  
Police or fire is 911

Love Mom! <3 <3

“Maybe it's over?” Jaebum picked up the phone to show them what was on the screen. The little screen flashed **0 Minutes Left** but the call log showed a single outgoing call. 911

Someone had already called for them.

Jaebum read the call log out loud twice but the second time he finally broke down crying. Jaebum had been the most collected of them, barring the now unconscious Mark, but now that the obvious danger had passed it was hitting all of them. At the table, Jinyoung held Mark’s hand, tears falling freely while his lips moved in what Jackson assumed was silent prayer. On the other side was Youngjae with his head buried in his arms and shoulders shaking. Bambam was still hovering close to him and Yugyeom helping keeping the youngest from collapsing onto the floor.

As distant sirens began to fill the air, Jackson pulled Jaebum to him. The older had been his rock when his mind was tearing itself apart, the least he could do was give him a shoulder to cry on. Jackson kept his burnt hand around Jaebum’s waist and carded the other through the dark hair like Jaebum had done in the boiler room when faced with the keepsake box. Braving a glance out the window Jackson saw that there were trees, some overgrown grass but whatever house this was it had been built so it was tucked behind a treeline. The dirt driveway held no cars or bikes. It didn’t mean they were alone, though it didn’t _feel_ like anyone else was in the house. Tucking his face into Jaebum’s shoulder, Jackson hoped those sirens were meant for them.

When tires screeched and the door was kicked in, none of them even flinched. Two men filled the doorway, guns leveled at their chest shouting hands up. In the ten seconds it took for the two men to actually take in the room neither Jackson nor any of the others moved. After everything they had just lived through, being faced with the ass end of two guns in the hands of a SWAT team was laughable. What was a quick death after bombs and toxic gas and being baked alive?

When the two got a good look, the guns instantly lowered. The one on the right spoke into a radio attached to his shoulder. “We found them. First floor in the kitchen.” Jackson held onto Jaebum harder as one of them approached. The men studied the seven of them, eyes finally falling to where Mark was on the table. “We need medics, stat. One unconscious.” In the hallway, several people dressed in body armor began fanning out to search the house. “I’d ask if you were okay but that’s a dumb question.”

“How do you know?” Jinyoung asked from the table where he was holding Mark’s hand. “We could be just peachy.” It was a lame attempt at a joke but one that Mark would have bounced at the man if he were awake. Thankfully neither officer was offended.

“You’re all famous now.” The SWAT officer looked at all of them sadly. “Everything from the minute he finished chaining you up to you walking out of the last room has been streaming across a bunch of sites. We’ve been looking for you all since we got a note at the police station with the chat room IP address two days ago.”

“Mark’s family. Did anyone call them?” Yugyeom spoke up. The small voice made both Jaebum and himself look over to where the youngest stared to the officers. 

“The Tuans landed a few hours ago.” Something made the SWAT officer smile. “I pity the bastard if his mother ever gets her hands on him. She’s been out for blood since she arrived.”

Jackson had so many questions but the EMTs finally arrived. In the flurry of the medics coming in with a gurney and shoving them out of the way to get Mark hooked up to fluids the six realized they would need to split up. With both Mark and Yugyeom needing to be laid out it was impossible to fit them all into one ambulance. After a quick discussion while they strapped Yugyeom in on the second gurney they decided on the groups. Jackson and Jaebum would ride with Yugyeom in one while Bambam, Youngjae, and Jinyoung would ride in the second one with Mark.

Jackson figured they must have been somewhere in the country or on the fringes of the suburb with how long they had to drive to a hospital that was equipped enough to help them. The drive took so long that Jackson nearly fainted from hyperventilation at not being able to see the rest of them. Since they still didn’t know who took them, Jackson had begun to doubt the medics. The EMTs had hooked both of them up to bags of fluids as well, and every so often Jaebum would have to grab his hand to keep from ripping the needle out. The woman sitting across from them said he was likely suffering from Hypervigilance. That it was normal for people with PTSD and with the trauma they just endured he likely would not be the only one of the group with it. 

When they _finally_ arrived at the hospital, the sun was still in the sky but not by much. They must have driven an hour or more but Jackson recognized that they were at the biggest hospital in Seoul. At least it would give Mark a fighting chance and maybe save Yugyeom’s leg. The deep panic returned and then was tripled when Mark and Yugyeom were dragged off to surgery by screaming nurses calling out all kinds of numbers and the remaining five of them separated to be checked out by hospital staff and questioned by the cops. 

Jackson did his best to answer the hundreds of questions that they bombarded him with. The detective though, he seemed to think they were all in on the whole thing. That somehow the seven of them were playing a game. That Mark nearly killed himself for attention or that Yugyeom cooked his leg as a way to get out of something. If Jackson had more strength he would have punched the man.

Where was he taken? “Outside of Yugyeom’s dance studio. I think.”

Was there anyone else taken with you? “Yugyeom.”

How was he taken? “Took a cab and he sprayed us with a gas.” 

Could he remember the person who took him? “No.”

Are you paying attention? “Are you?”

Do you know who did this? “No idea.”

Was he in on this plan? “ _Are you kidding me_?”

Don’t lie to me kid. Did you guys kill Byung-ho before or after setting that room up? “ _What_?!”

Even with the nurses yelling at them to stop, the questions kept coming, kept getting more and more accusatory until finally Jackson’s tired brain couldn’t take any more. Feeling detached from his body Jackson turned from sitting on the bed to laying down and promptly passed out.

Jackson hoped that when he woke up Mark and Yugyeom would be awake too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hi to us on Tumblr!  
> https://bang-channies.tumblr.com/
> 
> hey kids we got a twitter:  
> S - https://twitter.com/hardstansonly  
> K - https://twitter.com/BChannies
> 
> Give Rae some love too:  
> https://twitter.com/6uglyguysandjae


	6. Epilogue - Jaebum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> is ot7 a realistic ending? no. do we care? also no

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we've reached the end! Thanks so much for coming for the ride. We appreciate everyone who has read this far and hope you enjoyed it as much as we enjoyed making it. - S and Rae

The room they managed to stuff the seven of them in was made for maybe four but every time the hospital tried to split them up, chaos ensued. The were all jumpy, still scared out of their mind that somehow, some way, they were going to have to endure something else. What little sleep any of them got between being admitted, allowed to shower, and put in to wait for their missing two to be released from surgeries, none of them made an effort to leave.

The doctors had brought in some cots and a recliner for them to divide up between the five of them so that when Mark and Yugyeom were brought in the room would be able to fit their beds and machines. Jaebum made sure to thank each person who helped them profusely since the others had lapsed into silence. The hospital was breaking all kinds of rules and probably health codes to keep them together. If there was any good that came out of the whole world watching them suffer it was that people understood their need to be together. Jaebum heard more than one person whisper the words 'codependency' when they thought they were out of earshot. 

Maybe they were codependent now. On the recliner Jinyoung was stretched out with Youngjae on his chest, the younger’s face tucked into Jinyoung’s neck. Barely a handspan away on the cot next to them Jackson was awake again with a half asleep bambam on his lap absently playing with his fingers. Jaebum wondered if any of them had family to call when they were given the opportunity to do so. Jinyuong didn’t, neither did Yugyeom. But maybe Youngjae or Jackson or even Bambam had people who were missing him. Jaebum’s relationship with his family had been strained over the years but they had been working towards getting better. They _had_ been getting better.

A knock on the door jam drew their attention. Since none of them felt comfortable behind a closed door the doctors allowed them to keep it open. The two man team of armed officers standing guard also helped.

“Can we come in?” Jaebum took in the family of 5 standing in the doorway. Jaebum didn’t have to ask to know it was the Tuans. Mark and his father shared the same calm smile.

After a few heartbeats Jaebum realized it was an actual question. “Oh. Yeah, sure.” Jaebum tried to smile back but his face wouldn't work. None of the Tuans seemed angry even though their son was being operated on because of them. Behind Jaebum the four had gotten to their feet, none of them knowing what to say to Mark’s family.

“This won’t do.” Mrs. Tuan huffed out. “Come here so I can hug you.” Jaebum nearly laughed as the small woman enveloped him in a warm hug. Jaebum was only able to last a second before he started crying into her shoulder and spilling apologies.

And just like that, all five of them found themselves being passed person to person for a hug. Each new body wrapped themselves around one of them and thanked them for taking care of Mark. For not leaving him behind when he passed out. For not giving up when things were bad.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jaebum saw Mr. Tuan holding a sobbing Jinyoung. He could just barely make out the man telling Jinyoung that he was proud of him for being so strong. That nothing, _nothing_ , then or now was his fault. It didn’t matter if they were forced to make apologies to the world and that creep, none of them did anything wrong.

“We heard Mark promise to bring you all to LA.” Mrs. Tuan told them after they all managed to get calmed down and dry some of their tears. “That offer is still open if you want to. We have room in the house for all of you until we can find a permanent place for you to stay.”

“You...you can’t be serious.” Jackson swallowed past a lump in his throat. “What if he…”

“He’ll make it.” Mrs. Tuan smiled but spoke fiercely. She didn’t seem to be the kind of woman who let doubts rule her life. If she believed Mark would make it then Jaebum wasn’t going to argue. “I was promised at least one son-in-law.” That made Bambam laugh, even if it carried a slight edge of mania.

“And if you end up with six?” Youngjae chuckled too. It was mostly a joke but it carried a bit of weight for all of them. They all had come to love Mark in some form or another during their time trapped in the rooms. Maybe it was the shared trauma, maybe it was because Mark had been willing to sacrifice himself to save them. Maybe it was because it was impossible not to love the American.

“Oh god, it’ll be like his prom all over again.” One of the sisters laughed, hand covering her mouth to muffle the sound a bit. “He had eight dates. It was a logistical nightmare. We had to get a limo just so they would all arrive at the place together.” The memory made the family laugh good naturedly. "It didn't end up working out but he's still friends with all of them."

That caught all of their attention. In Korea, it was still frowned on to be gay nevermind polyamorus. Not that any of them were even remotely in a place to make any of those decisions. Still, it was nice to know that Mark’s family was just as laid back and accepting as Mark himself. It made the idea of moving to America much less daunting and twice as enticing. Jaebum was sick of living in some fear or another.

“Mark’s happiness has always been more important than what people say.” Mr. Tuan smiled at them gently. “Even if we get zero son-in-laws you’re all still welcome to come back to the states with us.” Jaebum brushed a fresh wave of tears back. “We’ll take care of you.”

The room fell into silence until Mrs. Tuan finally spoke in a sad voice. “I don’t know if you heard yet, but they had to take Yugyeom’s leg just above knee.” At the sob from Jackson to his right Jaebum turned and pulled the younger to his chest. “They were going to try skin grafts but there wasn’t much they could do. The heat and continued strain was too much. They tried to repair the muscle but it wasn’t holding together.” They all knew that he was going to lose it from the moment Jackson had to pry up the pressure plate.

Knowing didn’t make it any easier.

After nearly ten hours in surgery, Yugyeom and Mark were rolled into their little room. They had both made it but the doctors told them that Mark needed rest. If they couldn’t keep themselves calm and quiet Mark would be moved for his own health and safety. Jaebum heard the doctor tell ‘Mama’ and ‘Papa’ Tuan that they had nearly lost Mark on the table. Both of Mark’s parents turned sad eyes to Mark before smiling gently at Yugyeom and the rest of them in the room. It took everything in him to not crawl onto Mark’s bed to hold the man close.

Being silent wasn’t much of an issue. After seeing both of them safe and breathing the five did their best to sleep too. The most any of them got was a handful of hours collectively, the terror still too fresh in the minds for any true rest. Being unable to sleep with Yugyeom with all his wires and check ups, Jackson crawled onto the recliner with Jaebum and didn't move. Jaebum pulled him tight against his body, being able to feel one of them alive and breathing helped when the shadows of the room became too much. 

Jaebum hoped he was giving as much comfort to Jackson as Jackson was giving to him.

When Yugyeom woke up the next morning to find that he lost his leg he had gone catatonic. No screaming, no begging, no tears. Just silent resignation that left all of them feeling helpless. When Yugyeom was awake, he simply stared at the wall or at Mark who still had not woken up yet. No amount of talking, coaxing, or singing had gotten a response. Jackson had taken to hovering around him trying to bring him back to life but Yugyeom didn’t seem to even register he was there. After a lengthy argument with the nurses Jackson and Bambam had climbed onto the bed with him, mindful of the wires and tubes, to hold their maknae. Collectively they agreed that instead of pushing Yugyeom to speak the five of them would simply keep close, holding his hand and pressing soft kisses to his face and lips. The asshole took his leg but they weren’t going to let him take Yugyeom’s life too.

A few hours later the Tuans were back from their hotel bringing gifts of clothing, food, and much needed life into the room. Mama Tuan had brought in bright ,colorful flowers stuffing them on every available surface until it took out some of the hospital feel. In her purse was little pieces of chocolate that she passed around making them swear not to tell the doctor. At the promise of chocolate Yugyeom had perked up just the slightest bit, the ghost of a smile pulling at the corner of the youngest’s lips when she placed his piece against his lips.

“You’re Yugyeom right?” Jaebum looked up from where he was still curled with Youngjae on the recliner. Both of Mark’s sisters stood next to Yugyeom’s bed sharing a familiar mischievous look.

“We’re Mark’s sisters.” Yugyeom blinked as a response. “We came just in case he didn’t keep his pinky promise to you.” A surprised breathy laugh escaped Yugyeom. It wasn't much but it was a sign of life.

\- 3 Days later - 

Jaebum sat watching Mark's sisters teach Yugyeom to weave string between his fingers. The two women had slowly been bringing Yugyeom back into the world with little activities and saying that as one of their future brother-in-laws he was now subject to family time so no more moping. Yugyeom had cried the day they showed him videos of other dancers that continued their craft after losing one or both of their legs. Jaebum wasn’t sure they would have survived the days after escaping without the Tuans.

None of them talked about how Mark was still asleep. They didn’t acknowledge how the doctors were getting more and more worried or how there had been doubt he'd ever recover. Instead they focused on how he no longer needed blood transfusions and the color had come back to his skin. They focused on his wrists healing up and the black bags under his eyes disappearing. Mama Tuan had said from the moment she arrived Mark would make a recovery and the rest of them put their faith in her instincts. Mark would come back to them, all they had to do was be patient.

The five of them were spread around the room with Mark's siblings as Mama and Papa Tuan battled with both American and Korean immigration. They had all decided the night before to go back to LA with the Tuans. None of them felt safe in Seoul anymore, or in Korea at all. Not even in the hospital being guarded 24/7 by officers and hospital staff helped to alleviate the lingering sense of being hunted. Jinyoung deserved to have a real shot at a life. Youngjae deserved to have a shot at happiness without Byung-ho’s family blaming him for their son’s murder. They all deserved to be able to sleep again at night.

Jaebum's mom had been upset. She demanded to know how he was going to pay for everything? She stomped her feet saying that he didn't even know English. Jaebum wasn't angry when she yelled or when she cried. Not even when she threatened to disown him - again. Even if it hurt, he understood. Her only child had nearly died and now wanted to move an ocean away.

As it turned out, money wasn't something they had to worry about. At least not for a while. Most of the people who watched didn't know that it was real. When their story hit international news the backlash of shock and remorse hit and led to several crowdfunds being set up to pay for their medical bills and whatever else was needed. The Tuans had money, Bambam had money, and even Jackson still had savings from when he competed in fencing. It was a 180 from where Jaebum had been living paycheck to paycheck trying to keep the lights on and the cats fed.

A blip on Mark's heart monitor caught his attention. Looking over from Yugyeom he felt the tears well up. On the bed Mark was staring at him with a tired smile. "I lived, bitch."

The room was frozen in shock for only a moment before everyone was crying and trying to scramble over to see him. Jackson beat everyone over and before anything could be said kissed him while Yugyeom squawked it wasn't fair, that was his kiss.

Later that night, Jaebum talked with Mark to fill him in. He told him about the house, the rescue and everything he had missed. When he told Mark about Yugyeom's leg the American looked over at him sadly. The two agreed when Yugyeom was healthier they look into getting him a prosthetic, maybe even a blade leg so he could dance again.

When Jaebum told Mark that the six of them would be coming back to the states the American lit up like a christmas tree, the tired smile stretching into a wide grin. The hand wrapped around his tightening in excitement even though his body was too tired to do much more. It did a lot to soothe the doubt that had started to creep into his heart. Mark’s family accepted them and Mark still wanted them. They talked until Mark wasn't able to keep his eyes open any longer and fell asleep mid sentence. Dropping a gentle kiss first to Mark's forehead then his lips Jaebum got ready for bed. 

Over on the recliner Bambam and Youngjae were curled up on Jinyoung who had been having nightmares about his sister. The four of them had been taking turns curling up to sleep with him to help when he woke up shaking or in tears. On the cot next to Yugyeom’s bed Jackson was half asleep, the younger had tried to stay awake with them but started dozing in and out. Since Yugyeom was not permitted to have any sleeping buddies they worked out a system with the nurses that allowed them to be close enough to their maknae when the nightmares struck. Crawling onto the cot Jaebum pulled the man close, a small smile spreading when Jackson turned to curl against him murmuring a goodnight.

Starting over in America was going to be hard but with Mark and his family providing a solid stepping point maybe they could begin to heal. Jaebum looked forward to seeing what the future would bring.

**Game End.**

News Report: Breaking News! Suspect in kidnapping and torture case dies in police shoot out.

Park Seon-yeong was killed today in a shootout with authorities. The 45 year old Seoul native was wanted in connection to the kidnap and torture of 7 young men and the murder of an eighth earlier this year. 

Eight months ago Park kidnapped 7 Korean men and 1 American who was here on a work visa. Park held them unconscious for 2 days before putting them through a series of torture rooms that were booby trapped to kill them if they could not complete the required puzzles in the time limit set. Park streamed their torture for the world while many of viewers were unaware it was real. The chat room users are still being asked to call in and give details to how they were contacted.

After a lengthy investigation, police had been closing in on Park who lost his eight year old son in the Seoul Apartment fire that claimed 35 lives back in September of 2003. When police attempted to bring him in, Park opened fire. No police were injured, but Park died on the scene as a result of one shot to the torso and one to the abdomen. 

We will provide more details as they come in. As always our thoughts and prayers are with the 7 survivors and the family of Kim Byung-ho, the eighth victim of this tragedy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hi to us on Tumblr!  
> https://bang-channies.tumblr.com/
> 
> hey kids we got a twitter:  
> S - https://twitter.com/hardstansonly  
> K - https://twitter.com/BChannies
> 
> Give Rae some love too:  
> https://twitter.com/6uglyguysandjae

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi to us on Tumblr!  
> https://bang-channies.tumblr.com/
> 
> hey kids we got a twitter:  
> S - https://twitter.com/hardstansonly  
> K - https://twitter.com/BChannies
> 
> Give Rae some love too:  
> https://twitter.com/6uglyguysandjae


End file.
